


The Winding Road

by BelovedMaeve



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 105,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedMaeve/pseuds/BelovedMaeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots focusing on Lena and Stef and their relationships with one another, and their children. Pre-pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back to School Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: I am planning on doing a series of one-shots of the family, pre-pilot. I want to focus on the moms and their relationships with their kids and with one another. They won’t be in chronological order because when I get an idea, I’ll add to it.

**Ch. 1: Back to School Shopping**

When Lena suggested she take Brandon school shopping she expected Stef insist on accompanying them. The look of relief on Stef's face was comical. “Oh my G-d, thank you,” Stef said, giving her partner a bone-crushing hug.

Lena was a little surprised. “You mean you don't want to take him?” she asked. “Not at all? It’s first grade.”

Stef rolled her eyes theatrically. “You mean go to the place where there are thousands of children and their crazy mothers? The whining? The yelling? No, Love, I think I can miss that.”

Lena chuckled. As an assistant vice principal and former teacher she had a great deal of experience with back-to-school sales. They didn’t scare her. The best time to go was in the late evening. But since Brandon wanted to be included on this little trip, she knew she would have to brave the crowd.

Brandon prattled excitedly in the car. He had his school list clenched in his hands as he eagerly read off each item, proud to show-off his reading skills. Lena nodded in all the right places, mentally eliminating some items and adding others. Before they left the car she gave Brandon strict instructions to stay by her side at all times. If he wanted to go somewhere, he needed to tell her where he was going. Then he _might_ be allowed to go independently (still within sight and/or hearing range though). He nodded seriously and agreed knowing his mother would have similar requirements.

When they entered the store’s front doors, they found it was as full as she had feared. Brandon, who could become shy sometimes in crowds, moved a little closer to her.

"All right kiddo," she said. “Let's start with the clothes and then we'll get the school supplies last.”

He scowled a little, but she decided to ignore it. She knew that he would be worn out after looking for new clothes. Shopping for the school supplies would perk him up and they could end this trip on a good note.

They managed to pick out several pairs of pants, jeans, and long and short sleeve shirts. The little boy decided he really needed the Sponge Bob Squarepants underwear, so they got that too. The clothes were piled into the cart and they moved toward the changing rooms.

Brandon willingly tried on the clothes with a minimum of grumbling. Lena promised him that the faster he tried on clothes, the quicker they would get to the “real” school supply shopping. They were momentarily stymied by an ill fitting pair of pants.

“Lena,” she heard her son’s little voice.

“Yes,” she responded distractedly as she used her Palm Pilot to check the time for her dentist appointment tomorrow.

“These pants don't fit. I've tried and tried but I think if I try much harder I'm going to break the zipper,” the sounds from inside the dressing room indicated that he was continuing to yank at the clothing.

“Don't do that,” Lena warned. “I’ll go and get another pair. You stay here and try on the jeans and the shirts. Stay in the dressing room, Brandon. I'll be back in a few minutes.” She paused, waiting for his reply.

“Okay,” he responded, voice muffled by a shirt he was pulling over his head.

Lena moved swiftly to the boy’s clothing section. She looked through the pants quickly and found a pair that was the right color and the right size. As she moved towards the dressing rooms, she was stopped by an eager voice.

“Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!”

She turned towards the voice and put on a pleasant smile. “Mrs. Collins. Andrew,” she said cordially.

“I can't believe you're here…in the same store as me!” Andrew said with wide eyes. “What are _you_ doing _here_?”

Lena and Mrs. Collins shared a look of amusement. “I don't actually live at the school Andrew,” she assured him. “It just seems like I do.”

Mrs. Collins laughed. “He's really looking forward to returning to Anchor Beach. You have such a wonderful program there. His father and I are so pleased with how well he's doing.”

Lena nodded. It was always nice to hear compliments, even if you were in a hurry. “Andrew's a good boy,” she said honestly. “We always enjoy seeing his smiling face.” She glanced over at the dressing rooms quickly. “Unfortunately I have to get going. My son’s trying on clothes.” She directed the next comment to Mrs. Collins. “I'll see next week at Parents’ Night, right?”

Mrs. Collins nodded enthusiastically but then stopped her with a hand on her arm “I just have a quick question.”  
Lena glanced again at the boys’ dressing room, mentally rolling her eyes. There was almost always one last question. She nodded her head pleasantly. “Go ahead,” she invited.

As Mrs. Collins grilled her about the second-grade curriculum and the program reviews the staff had conducted, she nodded and responded to each point in a professional and precise manner. When Mrs. Collins segued into the new National Math Standards, Lena politely informed her that they would go over it, _in detail_ at Parents’ Night. Mrs. Collins and Andrew left with pleased smiles on their faces. Lena sighed internally. Another day another satisfied parent. The difficult part of being a teacher in the community was that you were a _teacher_ in the _community_. Each foray into the neighborhood meant the prospect of encountering students and their families in any possible place or circumstance.

When she reached the boys’ dressing room, she tapped on the door. “Brandon,” she said. “Sorry I'm late baby. I have new pants.” There was no response. She knocked harder. “Brandon?” Hearing continued silence, she opened the door. The clothes they had chosen were piled on the chair haphazardly, but Brandon was nowhere to be found.

She stepped out into the hallway. “Brandon?” she called loudly. No response. She walked nervously up to the red-haired dressing room attendant. “Did you see the boy I came here with?” she asked. “He’s just a little boy. Six years old. He has brown hair, blue eyes.”

The older woman shook her head. “I remember him coming in with you, but I don't remember seeing him come out,” she paused to look around the dressing room area, as if she could see what Lena missed. “We got pretty busy for a while. Lots of people coming in and out. I didn't have my eyes on the exit the whole time," she shrugged half-apologetically.

Lena nodded her understanding and began to move swiftly through the boys clothing section. “Brandon!” she called. She maintained her calm façade but was inwardly apprehensive. She knew the most likely outcome was that she would find him wandering. But if you watched the news or read the newspapers you couldn’t help but have horrible stories of kidnapping in your head, or know about all the tragedies that could befall a young child. “Brandon!” she shouted again. She closed her eyes, desperately listening for his voice. All she could hear was the clamor of other parents and their children. She felt the beginnings of real panic in her heart. She leaned against a wall, taking a deep breath. Whether it was a lull in the noise, or coincidence, she heard his voice.

“I can't find my mom,” he said urgently. “I've been looking and looking.”

Lena heard the murmur of an adult voice, trying to soothe him but she could already see him. “Brandon!” she exclaimed in a voice that was both stern and relieved.

He spun towards her immediately and ran into her arms. “Mama!” he called out in relief.

She held him tightly to her for a moment, then drew him slightly from her to hold him by his arms. She glared at his penitent face. “I told you to stay in the dressing room,” she scolded. “You were told not to leave. What were you thinking?”  


His lower lip poked forward a little. “You were taking a long time,” he wailed. “I went to see where you were. Then I…then I kinda got lost…” his little voice trailed off.

“We will talk about this later,” she warned with one last hug. She stood up to see the sales clerk staring at them.

“You’re his mother?” the tattooed woman inquired suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said gratefully. “Thank you so much for finding him.”

The other woman exchanged a look with a muscular, male coworker. “Umm, can we have ID or something?” she asked.

Lena frowned. “What? Why!?”

Again that look. Then the man spoke up. “You know. To show that you're really his mother.”

Lena took a breath, closing her eyes, seeing what they saw. A little blue-eyed, brown haired white boy with a black woman. Not a nanny. Irritation rankled. "You heard him call me mom," she said evenly.

Now the looks exchanged were uncomfortable and she could see them starting to back down.

Brandon looked anxiously between the adults. “She’s my other mom,” he said. “I live with my moms.”

Now the look that was exchanged was one that was very clear. It was disapproval. Maybe even disgust. Without a word, both clerks turned their backs and walked away.

Lena bit her tongue but refused to add to Brandon's anxiety by calling them out on their behavior. There was a time and a place for education. She knew that better than anyone. Right now she wanted to finish shopping, and get her son home.  
She grasped Brandon's hand firmly and took them back to the boys clothing section. Lena knew she was radiating disapproval. Brandon was uncommonly meek as they finished buying clothes and then went on to buy his school supplies.

As they drove away from the store parking lot, Brandon spoke up from the back seat. "Are you going to tell Mommy I was bad for you?" he asked tentatively.

Lena sighed, “Brandon, you aren’t bad. You made some bad choices today. But I’m not going to keep any secrets from your mother. That's not the way we work.” She watched as his little shoulders slumped. “I know you weren’t trying to misbehave,” she continued. “You were worried. Next time you need to do what I say, no matter what, and stay where you’re supposed to be. Do you understand me?"

"Uh-huh," she could see him nod vigorously from the rear-view mirror.

“Alright then. We're good,” she smoothly changed lanes as she switched music stations.

Brandon's smile was relieved. They listened quietly for a few minutes as the classical music station switched from a Bach's Concerto to Tchaikovsky.

“Lena?” questioned Brandon.

“What is it baby?” she asked.

“Why didn't those people believe you when you said you were my mom?”

Many people thought that children didn't notice what wasn’t right in front of them. Lena was not one of those people. But she had hoped in this case, that Brandon hadn't paid attention to the store clerks. “Well sweetie,” she said, “It's because we don't look alike.”

She saw his frown in the rear view mirror. “I don't look a lot like mommy either,” he said. “She has blonde hair and brown eyes and I have brown hair and blue eyes.”

Lena didn't bother to list the myriad of ways she saw Brandon in Stef. Their smiles, the way they looked when they were listening intently, their instinct for kindness… So many things that marked them as mother and son. But that wasn't really the point. "Our skin colors are different," she said. "A lot of families have similar skin color. That's what people are used to." This was certainly familiar territory for her. When she was with her mom and dad, they would still get looks, but they fit together as a unit. It was okay when she and her mother were together. For many, Black was Black. Going on trips to the store or to a restaurant with only her father, when it was just the two of them, was a lot different. She was younger than Brandon when she realized how many strange looks they received. And it didn't stop with just looks. People would actually confront her father, asking what he was doing with her.

When she was old enough to become indignant about this, her father would encourage her to see it in the best light. "They're probably thinking I could be a danger to you Lena,” he said. “If people are looking on a barely superficial level, we don't seem to match. For all they know…I could've kidnapped you."

"Maybe they should look more than on the outside," she grumbled, not even aware that her slouch and the frown on her face matched his exactly.

His smile was both pleased and indulgent. "That they should, sweetheart," he said with a gentle touch. "All we can do is educate people. The ones that are willing to listen will learn and the others… may never be ready.”

She was brought out of her reverie by Brandon. "We're just a little different,” he said. “Like having two moms is a little different."

“That's true,” she said.

“But being different’s okay, right?” he asked.

“What you think?” she asked, giving him the chance to say what he thought.

He thought for less then a minute. “Diffrent's okay,” he said firmly. “I miss living with mommy and daddy, but I want to live with you too Lena. I love you an awful lot."

“I love you too Brandon,” she said sincerely.

They drove home.


	2. Will we Ever Find the Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Thanks for the reviews and kudos. Writing about the Foster’s early years is fun. I wanted to try the time shortly after Mariana and Jesús had come to the family. While I have no doubt Lena and Stef (and Brandon!)were happy to have the twins, integrating new family members can be difficult. Finding time with you wife or partner, can be even more of a challenge. I wanted to give Stef and Lena some...alone time. Eventually.

**Ch. 2: Will we Ever Find the Time?**

 

“Jesús where's your backpack?”

Jesús glanced around the kitchen curiously, as if willing it to magically appear. “I don't remember.”

“Well find it, okay?” Stef said. “We have to leave in like two minutes. Mariana, Love, are you ready?”

The little girl nodded silently.

“Okay then, help your brother,” Stef requested.

Obediently Mariana hopped down from the chair and industriously scanned the kitchen. Finding nothing she headed for the living room.

Brandon pulled a paper from his backpack. “Mom can you sign this? I need it for the field trip tomorrow.”

“Why am I just seeing this now?” asked Stef.

“I forgot?” said Brendan tentatively.

Stef sighed in irritation and held out one hand snapping her fingers impatiently. “Okay. C’mon, let's go,” she said. She quickly signed the form and handed it back to him.

Lena appeared in the kitchen, holding Jesús's backpack. “Somebody missing something?” she asked.

“Thanks Lena,” said Jesús who had been spinning Hot Wheels cars off the kitchen table.

“All right. Mariana, Jesús go get in the car. We're leaving right now,” Stef ordered.

She gave Lena and Brandon a kiss goodbye. “See  you two later okay?”

“Bye Mom,” called Brandon.

Lena waved over her coffee cup.

_In the two months since the twins  had entered the household, things had changed dramatically. Stef and Lena were dismayed to learn that the twins test scores weren’t high enough to allow them into Anchor Beach Community Charter School where Brandon attended._

_"Maybe we should send them to the public school, just until they catch up,” said Stef._

_Lena shook her head. “You know the neighborhood school isn’t very good. The classes are over-crowded and their test scores have been going down for the last five years. Mariana and_ _Jesús_ _need intensive work. If they get enough help, in a year I think we can get them to Anchor Beach.”_

_Stef sighed. “What do we do then?”_

_Lena looked at her tentatively. “There's a Catholic school about a half-mile away…” she began._

_“Absolutely not,” said Stef raising her hand. “You're not Catholic, I'm not Catholic. We are not indoctrinating these kids into a religion.”_

_‘Predictable,’ thought Lena, but she had other plans. “There's another private school. It's two miles away, secular, and I think we can get scholarships or at least partial scholarships for the twins.”_

_Stef looked at her. “Can we really afford that, honey?” she asked._

_“It's only for a year,” Lena returned firmly. “We just need to get them to grade level. We’ll do private school for a year and I'll tutor them. Next year they’ll be ready for Anchor Beach.”_

_Stef studied her hands, folded tensely on the table. “I'll see about pulling in some extra shifts,” she said quietly._

_Lena reached out and grasped her hand. “The earlier we can help these kids, the better. This will make a real difference in their lives.”_

Lena looked at Brandon. "Are ready to go?" she asked.

“Yeah,” said Brandon. “I just need to brush my teeth.”

“Okay. Get moving then,” said Lena.

 

****

 

Lena felt like a chauffeur. She spent half her time shuttling the children from one activity to the next. Brandon had piano lessons and basketball practice. Marianna had art classes and dance. Jesús was the busiest one of all. Lena and Stef had enrolled him in two separate athletic activities each day. One in the morning and one in the evening. They thought this would reduce his energy levels so his focus would be better. So far it seemed to be working pretty well. Once a week he saw a counselor and every month they took him to the psychiatrist to have his medication levels checked. Lena and Stef had been frustrated to learn that Jesús had had over eight different counselors and four different psychiatrists since kindergarten. Unfortunately this wasn't uncommon with children receiving medical care through the state. When they tried to challenge the current set-up, they were told that he either needed to receive the state services or they would have to put him on their own insurance. At this time, they just couldn’t afford it. Lena also spent one and a half hours a day tutoring Jesús in reading, writing, and math. His biggest problem was his inability to concentrate. It wasn't that he wasn't intelligent enough to understand the material, he just needed to sit down long enough to learn it. Lena and Stef were committed to reducing his medications and using other methods to help control his ADHD. So far, although small, they could see improvements.

“Alright kids,” she said, “Make sure you get all your stuff out of the car and go start your homework while I start dinner.”

Jesús shot of the car, grabbing his soccer equipment but predictably forgetting his backpack.

“Jesús!” Brandon yelled. “Backpack!”

Mariana had already hauled it out of the car and was trying to awkwardly carry both her own backpack, and her twin's to the house. She was such a tiny little thing that the weight of the two backpacks were throwing her off balance.

Jesús ran back, grabbed his backpack from his twin, and knocked into Brandon as re ran past him.

Brandon sighed wearily but said nothing. His peaceful house had changed. Brandon, although young and active, gravitated towards introspection and contemplation. Jesús was a ball of energy and Mariana, although quiet, was very needy. Despite these challenges, he was enjoying the novelty of having siblings, and his generous nature allowed for a great deal of forgiveness.

Lena gave Brandon's shoulder a grateful rub as she passed him.

Mariana appeared by her elbow as soon as she opened the refrigerator door. Lena sighed internally. Not even two minutes of alone time. “Don't you have homework sweetie?” she asked.

Marianna shook her head, looking at her expectantly.

“Would you like to help with dinner?” Lena asked knowingly.

A gap toothed smile was her reply.

Stef dragged herself into the house around 6:30. "Hi babies," she said wearily, gratified to be home after spending half the day dealing with some asshole who had shot his kids.

“Hi Stef,” chirped Jesus, trying to balance on a kitchen chair on one foot. Stef lifted him to the floor and patted his head fondly.

“Hi Mom,” said Brandon sweetly, looking up from his book.

Marianna walked across the kitchen to lean closely into Stef. “I helped with dinner,” she whispered in obvious pride.

“That's great sweetheart,” said Stef giving her a kiss on the forehead.

She paused to look at her partner who was working at the sink. She hugged her from behind. “Hey, Love,” she said into her ear.

Lena smiled as she felt her partner’s lips on her neck. “Hey.”

Stef got a beer from the fridge, and closed her eyes to savor the first cold sip and the warmth of her family. After a moment she opened her eyes, dismissing the events of the day in favor of the here and now. “So how is everyone?” she asked.

When dinner was finished, the family played a heated game of Monopoly. After that, they watched television, in companionable, if exhausted silence. When the clock turned to 9:30 they were all ready to turn in, or if they weren’t ready, were ordered to turn in. Stef looked at her dozing partner with great fondness. She bent down. Lena’s face twitched when she felt Stef's lips on her own. She blinked heavily, looking around in bleary confusion. “Where are the kids?” she asked.

“Upstairs,” responded Stef. “Brushing their teeth. Getting ready for bed.” She punctuated her words with kisses.

“Oh really?” said Lena. She grabbed Stef's shirt and drew her closer, pulling the cop on top of her for an especially hard kiss.

“Lena…Stef?” said a little voice at the top of the stairs.

Lena groaned  and let her head drop on her partner's chest. Stef sighed deeply. "Later?" she begged.

“Definitely,” said Lena.

Unfortunately an hour later, they discovered that all three kids had come down with the flu.

****

Stef was feeling desperate. It had been too long since she'd been with her partner. She needed to reconnect. She could feel herself fraying at the edges. And if her partner's tense face was any indication, she was feeling it too.

They had planned this night for two weeks. They had a babysitter lined up, one that had been cleared by social services. They were going to go out to their favorite restaurant, then a long night of…other stuff. The idea of being alone with her partner after so long had Stef both delighted and somewhat edgy with anticipation. This may have been the reason she didn't handle herself well when she got home.

When Lena got home, she passed the ladder propped up against the front porch, indicating that the roof cleaner had indeed been there that day. She mentally reminded herself to put that away before they left. She entered the house and encountered only silence. That was downright unusual these days. “Stef? Kids?” she called. No answer. She walked upstairs and was nearly run over by Brandon coming from her and Stef's room.

“Brandon what's wr-" she started. He sniffled and continued to run to his room.

Stef appeared at the door, looking grim.

Lena met her eyes, “What happened?” she asked.

“I gave him a spanking,” she said sternly, all her frustration coming out in these words.

“Wh-, Why," Lena started, then took a deep breath. Never in their relationship had Stef claimed sole dominion of her son. Likewise, Lena had used her child psychology classes as a trump card. They had however, discussed discipline many times. Lena ignored the fact that she thought spanking was an outdated punishment (something she had discussed with Stef) and the other thoughts that bubbled to the surface. “You must be really upset,” she said instead, responding to the sadness and frustration in her partner’s eyes.

Stef's face crumpled slightly. “He was on the damn roof. Not the flat part either! He was on the apex, trying to stand! He could have fallen! He could have broken his neck! Just because Jesús dared him,” she sighed. “I sent Jesús to his room. Mariana too. She didn't do anything. I just needed them to be… not here,” Stef seemed to run out of steam and she slumped against the wall.

“Okay,” said Lena calmly. “It's okay.” She moved to take Stef in her arms.

Stef sighed and let herself melt into them. “I didn't mean to spank him. It just kinda happened. I saw him up there. I was so worried….scared…pissed.”

Lena pulled her gently into their bedroom, “I know.” She saw the tension on her partner's face. She knew how much pressure she'd been under. How much pressure they both had been under. She cupped her face and kissed her. “Let's go out,” she said.

“Yeah?” Stef's eyes lightened hopefully.

“Yeah,” Lena returned. “Go talk to our son first. I'll talk to Jesus and Marianna and let the babysitter know the boys have an early bedtime tonight. No TV. No computer. No video games. We’ll go out and forget about this.”

Stef nodded as they leaned together, foreheads pressing against one another. “Sounds good,” she whispered.

When Lena finished talking to the twins, she was halted by the sight of her partner, leaning against the wall near their son’s room. “He doesn’t want to talk to me,” said Stef quietly. “He wasn’t disrespectful, he just asked to please be left alone.”

Lena went into Brandon’s room. He was turning a ratty paperback in his hands. Lena sat down at the end of the bed. He was quiet a few more minutes, then sighed. He scooted closer to her. “Mom’s mean” he sulked. “I don’t like her right now.”

“You’re angry at Mom,” repeated Lena calmly. “But she’s not real happy with you either, sweetie.”

Brandon looked guilty.

“She was terrified when she saw you on that roof. She was so afraid you would be hurt. I mean, what would we do without our Brandon?” Lena asked gently.

Brandon’s chin dropped to his chest, and tears leaked out of his eyes. He moved into Lena’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Lena gave him a hug, and a brisk kiss. “We love you sweetie. We’re family. We may do things the other doesn’t like, but that doesn’t mean we can’t forgive.”

Brandon nodded thoughtfully.

“Want me to go get Mom now?” Lena asked.

He nodded again, making hesitant eye contact. She gave him another kiss and left the room. Her partner was still slouching in the hall, in much the same position as their son. “Our son has something he wants to say to you,” she said, touching her shoulder lightly.

Stef’s grin was tired, but sweet. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

“You better believe it,” said Lena with a smirk.

Dinner that night was wonderful. But what happened after dinner was spectacular.

 

 

 


	3. Gun Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. I can honestly say, I’m not sure where this came from. Vigil, I suppose. Ended up with a lot more “Little Stef” then I planned on too. I imagine she was a bit of a tomboy and probably something of a Daddy’s girl. After last night’s episode I can only say like many of us, Stef is holding out hope that her father will come to truly accept her, that she will accept nothing less that that, but will be ready to welcome him when or if he does.  
> Thanks for the reviews, and kudos.

The day she saw Jesús glancing with longing wonder at her gun, Stef sat all of the children down at the kitchen table. The unloaded gun lay in front of her.

Brandon looked at the twins, then at her with a slightly worried expression. She gave him a reassuring smile.

Lena sat next to her, hands nervously intertwined with one another. She knew Stef needed to have this talk with the children, but she didn’t like it. She didn’t like having the gun and the danger that it represented in her house, near her children.

Stef took a moment to gently stroke her partner’s fingers. She took a breath. “You know that I carry a gun, for work,” she began.

Three little heads nodded back at her. Understanding was dawning on Brandon’s face, he had heard a speech like this before, when he was younger.

“You also know that I keep the gun in a safe, and only Mama and I know the combination,” she continued.

Again, the quiet nods. Even Jesús who could be counted on to blurt out twenty questions in twenty seconds seemed to understand the seriousness of this conversation.

“I know that kids, boys especially, like to play pretend games with guns. And Mama and I aren’t going to stop that,” Stef couldn’t help but glance at her partner at those words. Lena **did not** like guns. She didn’t like that children pretended to shoot and kill one another. But as the mothers of boys, they knew there was a natural tendency to do so and outlawing pretend guns just led to them being made out of sticks or Legos.

“But you need to understand,” Stef continued, “Real guns are not toys. Not ever. Not when they’re empty, not when they’re “just” BB guns or pellet guns. Guns aren’t glamorous, they aren’t funny. They are used for serious things like target shooting or death.”

Stef cradled the empty gun in her hands. “This gun is empty,” she said. “I took the bullets out.” She gave it to Brandon. He ran his fingers over it, studied it, and looked at her.

“If you want to see my gun, you ask me. I will get it down and show it to you.” She took the gun from Brandon and gave it to Jesús. She pointed to the safety. “Right now the safety is on. That means that if there were bullets inside, you would not be able to shoot it.”

“So safety on means it’s safe?” asked Jesus, holding the gun with obvious fascination.

Lena made a little noise beside her and Stef shook her head. “It’s definitely not safe. Like anything, guns can malfunction. People can get hurt. You don’t mess with a gun. Even if you think it’s empty. People get hurt when that happens. People bleed and they die,” she was deliberately, shockingly blunt.

Jesús’s eyes widened and he handed the gun back to Stef. She started to hand it to Mariana but the little girl cringed and got up from the table. She ran over to Lena and clambered onto her lap to bury her face in her neck.

Lena gave Stef a look as she patted the little girl’s back and spoke to her in a low, soothing voice.

Stef waited until Mariana’s face poked up from her mama’s shirt and gave her a reassuring smile. She turned to the boys, knowing Mariana wasn’t ready for this part. “If you want to learn to shoot a gun, I will take you. I will teach you about gun safety.”

She heard the soft sigh from Lena. They had talked about this too. Stef refused to make guns a forbidden and therefore desirable activity. She remembered her own childhood.

_“Stef?” her father had boomed at her as she washed up for dinner._

_“Yes Daddy?” she asked, trying to remember if she’d done anything she’d be in trouble for. She left the sink where she had been washing her hands and began getting the dishes to set the table._

_“You and me are going on a little trip tomorrow. I’m going to teach you to shoot,” her father said from behind his newspaper_

_“Really!?” Stef felt a pulse of excitement. Her friend Jimmy had just learned to shoot. He kept bragging about good he was._

_“Yeah, it’s about time. I saw you looking at the gun case the other day,” her father said, putting down the paper and giving her an inscrutable look._

_“Not touching Daddy,” she said quickly, blanching at the thought. Her father had strictly forbidden the gun case and even though it was not locked she had not so much as brushed her fingers against the glass._

_“No, I didn’t think you had, ‘cause you know better,” his voice was heavy with meaning._

_Stef’s head bobbed up and down of it’s own accord._

_“You might have to get up kinda early. I want to take you to an outdoor range and it’s a little ways from here,” he continued._

_“Okay. Do I have to bring anything?” she began putting the plates and silverware on their kitchen table._

_“Naw, just wear your regular clothes,” he shook the paper and reopened it to the Sports section.  
“Is Mom coming too?” Stef asked curiously, nodding her head to the laundry room where her mother could be heard humming a melody._

_“You know your mother isn’t really fond of guns. It’ll be just you and me Flutterby,” her dad gave her a quick grin, and settled back into the paper._

_Stef was excited. Her dad worked long hours at the factory. When he got home he was usually very tired, and often grumpy. On the weekends he could be a lot of fun but he was also busy. To be able to spend the whole day with him, was a treat._

_***_

_The car trip the gun range was peaceful as Stef stared at the passing scenery. Her father sang quietly to the radio. Stef had been delighted when he passed her his cup of coffee._

_“Don’t tell your mom,” he warned and the cup roiled up in clouds of steam across her face._

_“I won’t,” she assured him as she too a sip…and barely refrained from spitting it back into the cup. “Ew, gross Dad! How can you stand it! It’s so bitter!”_

_Her father took the cup back. “Some folks put cream and sugar in it, but they’re just a bunch of panty-waists. Drinking it black’s the only way coffee should be drunk.”_

_She absorbed his words of wisdom. “It’s gross,” she announced. “I’m never drinking coffee again.”_

_Her father laughed, big and loud. “You don’t have to Flutterby. You don’t have to.”_

_When they got to the range, he made her take apart the .44 Magnum, then told her about each part, and had her put it together again. She nodded at all the right times and responded to each of his orders immediately._

_When she shot the gun the first time, her father’s warm hands were over her own, his whiskered face pressed against her shoulder. The earplugs prevented her from hearing him, but his smile told her everything she needed to know. She felt overwhelming love for him as she basked in his pride._

_They used the Magnum for awhile, then he showed her how to use a shotgun. Stef became better and better as the morning progressed._

_When they were done, one of the men nodded to her father. “How’d she do?” he asked genially._

_Her father’s hand was warm on her shoulder. “Did alright,” he drawled. “Didn’t shoot her foot off at any rate.”_

_Stef beamed, recognizing the concealed pride within her father’s voice. He was actually bragging about her!_

_They stopped at McDonalds and pulled into a picnic area to eat. When they were done, her father cleared his throat. “I wanna say a few things, now that you got to see what guns are like.”_

_Stef nodded, the smile slipping off her face at the seriousness of his voice._

_“Guns aren’t toys. They aren’t something you play around with. They have two purposes. Target practicing and death. You want to use a gun, you do it with me. I don’t want you shooting with your friends. Kids can do stupid shit, and I don’t want you getting into that. I find you playing with a gun, touching any gun without my permission…I will blister your butt and you won’t be touching a gun ever again. You understand me?”_

_“Yessir,” Stef said quickly, fear making her throat tighten. She nodded about three times to many._

_Her father held her eyes, nodded, satisfied at her response._

_Stef was afraid to say anything after that and she played with the wrapper of her cheeseburger nervously._

_Her father reached out and patted her hand. “You did real good today sweetheart. I’m real proud of you. I just need you to take guns seriously.”_

_“I will,” said Stef, anxious to see the pleased look on his face again. “I promise Daddy.”_

_“That’s my girl,” her father sounded satisfied and he took her garbage from her a squashed it in his large, left hand. He stood up and she followed him. This time, he tousled her hair affectionately. “I heard your friend Jimmy had close to a 70% accuracy rate on his target shooting last week.”_

_“Uh-huh,” she nodded._

_“Yours was at least 85%. You might want to let him know that,” her father’s teasing smile brought out her own._

_“I’ll tell him I kicked his butt!” Stef said, smiling in anticipation._

_“You do that Flutterby.”_

Stef returned to the present. “I’ll take you to a shooting range. If you become really interested in them, you can take some classes. But I don’t want you to ever be playing with guns. Not ever. We get too many calls every year from families where kids got hurt because their playing with guns. If any of your friends bring one out, I want you to get out of there.”

“Shouldn’t we help them, so they don’t get hurt?” Brandon asked.

“You can tell them to put it down, but you do that as you’re leaving. Tell an adult. Call the police. You don’t stick around to get shot,” Stef’s voice was deadly serious. She caught the gaze of each of her children, waiting until they nodded in return.

She felt Lena loosen a little beside her. Relief, Stef was sure. She took Lena’s hand in her own and kissed the tips. “Alright. I think Mama made homemade Mac’ and Cheese tonight. Let’s wash up.”

“Jesús, that means between your fingers too,” Lena added as she stood and put Mariana on her own feet as she followed Jesús and Brandon upstairs to the bathroom sink.

Stef picked up the gun from the table, intent on returning it to the safe where it belonged.

She was stopped by a hand on her forearm. “You did good sweetheart,” Lena said softly.

“Even though you hate guns,” Stef said with a small smile.

“Even though I hate guns,” Lena agreed.

Surprising them both, Lena leaned forward and brushed Stef’s lips with her own, then moved back to look at her.

Stef was stunned. “You have never, ever kissed my when I had the gun. Even when it was holstered!”

Lena shrugged, trying to be casual. Frowned. “You’re a good mom.”

“I know,” said Stef. “That’s why you decided to be with me, remember?”

Lena rolled her eyes and pushed her upstairs. “Go put that away, where it belongs, then help me get the salad ready.”

Stef gave her another quick kiss and returned the gun where it belonged.


	4. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I received a request to write about the little Fosters’ and the “where do babies come from” question. Since my stories focus on the kids when they’re five and up, I figured the question had been asked when they were smaller. At least, all of the little ones in my world have asked that question before they’re three. I was going to dismiss it (as cute as the idea is) but then remembered a former child of my acquaintance. Not getting too far into it, in my “real life” I deal with children who have been in the foster system or who have had difficult backgrounds. Although I don’t think the twins were horrifically physically (or sexually) abused, they were neglected, and probably exposed to some language/sights they shouldn’t have been. Their knowledge base wouldn’t be as innocent as Brandon’s. So I thought of a conversation I once had with a little guy, similar to the one below, and this is what resulted. It isn’t cutesy. It’s a bit raw and there is some swearing.
> 
> Thanks again for those who have took the time to review, it’s always a lovely surprise.

Around the eighth month of their neighbor Aileen’s pregnancy, there was a discussion about babies in the Foster-Adams household.  It was actually started by their little neighbor Patrick, who lived in the house to their left. He had come over when he smelled the cookies the family had just baked. His mother waved to the them as she tended to the hyacinths in her yard. The family was splayed lazily across their front porch, enjoying the mild (slightly boring)  day and a snack of warm cookies and ice-cold milk.

Patrick gave Lena a movie-star smile. “Cookie pease?” he asked politely.

Grinning, Lena handed him a warm cookie. He squatted next to Brandon, and dunked his cookie into Brandon’s glass of milk. Brandon smiled patiently as the toddler munched away happily.

“I think this is the best batch of cookies we’ve ever made,” said Mariana proudly, cuddled next to Lena on the bench.

“They would have been better if we put the cayenne pepper on them, like I wanted,” said Jesús.

“Gross, who puts pepper in cookies?” Mariana grimaced in distaste.

“There’s such things as spicy cookies, isn’t there Stef?” appealed Jesús.

“Yes, I’m sure there is. I’m also thankful that we put chocolate chips in instead,” said Stef, pinching the little boy’s nose fondly.

Aileen waddled down her driveway, waving to the family before she got into her little black Volvo.

“Why she dat?” asked Patrick.

“Why is she what?” asked Brandon.

“I think he’s asking why Aileen is like that,” Lena interpreted. “Why her tummy’s big, sweetie?” she asked, smiling at the little boy, while raising her eyebrow. He nodded, pleased that he had been understood .

“She’s got a baby in her tummy,” said Mariana hopping down from the swing and hurrying over to the little boy. “The baby’s gonna be here in a month!”

He looked at her, grave brown eyes on her face. “Baby in hers tummy?” he asked.

“Mm-hm,” she said cheerfully.

“Where baby from?” he asked.

Before either Lena or Stef could tell him to go ask his mommy, Jesús spoke up. “People fuck to have babies. Then they’re in the mom’s stomach.”

“Jesús,” Stef sighed and closed her eyes. “We don’t say that word in this house, remember?”

“I wasn’t saying it as a swear,” Jesús reassured her honestly, giving her his most sincere look. “It’s what people do. They fuck. Sometimes they have babies.”

“What fuck?” asked Patrick perfectly.

Stef closed her eyes and Brandon giggled nervously. Lena stood up and took Patrick’s hand. “Let’s get another cookie and I’ll take you back to Mommy,” she told the little boy calmly. She gave Stef a pointed stare and mouthed ‘damage control’ as they walked away.

The most amazing woman in the world, and she wanted to be with her. Sometimes Stef couldn’t believe her incredible good fortune. Of course, the best way to thank her would be to deal with their own children.

Stef pulled Jesús over, until he was in her lap. “I understand what you’re trying to tell me sweetheart.  What you’re talking about, we call “making love” or having sex. “Fuck” is a crude term and Lena and I don’t want you to use it, for any reason. Do you understand?”

Jesús nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry Stef.”

Stef nodded. “And you’re right, when men and women have sex, they sometimes become pregnant.”

Mariana had become very focused on her cookie, which was becoming reduced to crumbs in her nervous hands. “Mariana, what’s wrong sweets?” asked Stef, reaching for her as well.

Mariana easily let herself be pulled into the half-hug. Unlike Jesús, from the very beginning, Mariana was eager to be cuddled and held. She soaked in the affection like a dying man in a desert. “My mom got pregnant before,” she said in a small voice.

“With you and Jesús?” asked Stef, trying to navigate the minefield.

“Nu-uh. Another time. I heard her yelling at her boyfriend Marco. Or maybe it was Scott. She said she was pregnant and they had to take care of it.”

“Oh,” said Stef blankly, trying to come up with something else to say.

“What does that mean?” asked Brandon curiously. Abortion was definitely one area they hadn’t covered in their “birds and the bees” talk.

Stef took a deep breath, wondering if maybe Lena didn’t have the easier job right now.

“She got not-pregnant,” interrupted Jesús importantly, brushing the last of the cookie crumbs off his shirt.

“I get that, dummy. But, how?” Brandon said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey. No name-calling,” Stef reminded him sternly.

Brandon immediately looked apologetic. They were strict about name-calling anyway, but with Jesús struggling so much in schoolwork, he was sensitive to that particular slur. “Sorry Jesús,” mumbled Brandon immediately.

Jesús shrugged his shoulders, pretending indifference. Guiltily, Brandon handed him his last two cookies. Jesús smiled at the extra treats, looking to Stef to see if it was allowed. She nodded. “It’s okay Brandon,” he said. Quick to anger, and quick to forgive. That was their Jesús.

They were quiet, Brandon sipping the rest of his milk, while the twins ate their cookies. Stef was just thinking she had dodged the bullet when Brandon asked again, “What does it mean, she got rid of the baby?”

Shit. Stef closed her eyes, wishing Lena were here to handle this. “Well,” she said carefully. “Sometimes when people  don’t want babies, they go to the doctor to make it so they don’t have a baby.”

“Who wouldn’t want babies?” asked Brandon incredulously.

“The same ones who don’t want their kids,” said Mariana quietly.

Stef pulled Mariana on her lap so she shared the space with Jesús. Brandon looked terribly guilty, like he had caused this whole uncomfortable situation. Stef gave him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to worry about that. Everyone’s wanted here.”

When Jesús began squirming, Stef knew he was uncomfortable and needed to be released. She loosened her hold, and put both arms around Mariana instead.

“Hey. Anna and Lisa are going to have a baby,” said Jesús, the idea just occurring to him.

“Yeah,” said Stef warily. The couple had been over for a barbecue last weekend. Their eight-year-old Max loved playing with Brandon and Jesús. Lisa was nearly as pregnant as Aileen, and fairly grumpy about it too. She claimed it was the water retention that was making her so irritable but Anna had rolled here eyes behind her partner’s back and mouthed “it’s everything!” to Stef and Lena.

“So how do lesbians have babies?” he asked.

“Yeah Mom, how are you and Mama going to have babies?” asked Brandon cheekily.

Stef rolled her eyes. Her son chose now of all times to get sassy? With her smartass mouth and Lena’s dead-pan humor, they were in a world of hurt when the kids became teenagers if they didn’t nip it in the bud now. She gave him a look. The smile slipped of his face and he immediately found his shoes to be far more interesting.

“We already have our babies,” she said firmly.

“Someone say something about babies?” Lena said archly, touching Brandon’s head fondly as she passed him.

Stef groaned and flopped on her back theatrically, carrying a giggling Mariana with her. “Never again!” she said.


	5. Take me Out to the Ball Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received another request, this one about Stef and Lena being “caught” by one of the children during adult time. Being an over achiever, and apparently sadistic, I had them get caught out by each of their children. So, just for safety’s sake, I’m rating this chapter M. M for Lesbian sexual situations!!

“Stef, you are being ridiculous. Our children do not have psychic powers,” Lena sighed long-sufferingly, she stood at the mirror fixing her hair, clad only in her slip.

“They must! How do you explain that they have found us each and every time we tried to have sex. They must not want us to have sex. It’s one of those psychological what-do-you-call-its that you were telling me about.” Stef said seriously, running a brush through her tangled hair.

“It is not! It’s just luck.”

“Luck?”

“Bad luck. And the fact that we’re were stupid enough to try and have sex in the open,” Lena said, slipping on her dress.

“It’s like the telephone,” said Stef helplessly. “The kids could be reading, playing games…whatever, not wanting you at all. Then all of a sudden, the phone rings and the kids decide it’s that very second that _they_ need you. Immediately.”

Lena wrapped an arm around her partner. “I know baby, It’s been a frustrating week.”

 

****

_Thursday_

“Hey baby,” Stef felt her partner’s arms wrap around her from behind.

Stef smiled and let her head drop back onto Lena’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Missed you today,” Lena said as she gently nipped her way down Stef’s neck.

“Mmmm,” Stef agreed. “I hate having to get up before you.”

The early times, in the morning had become their together time. The house was quiet, their children slept, and the only two people in the world were Lena and Stef.

Lena let her hands travel slowly upward. “I felt you kiss me, before you left. It made it into my dreams.”

“Yeah?” Stef felt her breath catch. Lena had looked like a tousled angel that morning, and it had taken all her self control to leave her sleeping.

“Mm-hmm,” Lena kissed the back of her neck and Stef felt shivers run up and down her spine. She spun and grabbed Lena, lifting her easily and placing her onto the table. Lena laughed. “Completely unsanitary,” she mumbled as her mouth was devoured by Stef’s.

“Uh-huh,” Stef was trying to rapidly unbutton Lena’s shirt, one-handed as her partner did the same. She ran her hands over her partner’s smooth back, marveling at the softness. Stef pressed her hips against her partner’s center, feeling the warmth. She was reaching to unsnap Lena’s bra, when she felt Lena stiffen. “Hey baby,” Lena said gently.

Stef froze and swiftly began buttoning her shirt while Lena did the same. Luckily the blocking of their bodies meant that they were relatively unseen. “Hey love,” she said to Brandon with her back still turned. “What’re you doing up?”

“I had a bad dream,” Brandon said forlornly from the doorway.

Lena and Stef gave one another rueful smiles, and Stef looked down quickly to make sure she was all buttoned up before she turned and scooped her son in her arms. “A bad dream, huh?” she said.

He nodded tiredly. “I was being chased by werewolves. They had big teeth and big eyes and their tongues were hanging out.”

“That does sound scary,” Stef soothed as she ran her hand up and down his back. His head fell heavy on her shoulder. Even though at ten, he was really too big for her to be toting around, she loved that she still could…and that he’d allow it. In the safety of their own home of course.

He focused on Lena. “Could you come sing me the Nightime Song? So I can sleep again?”

Lena, who was now also buttoned up and presentable gave him a nod. “I’ll follow you guys back up in a minute.”

Stef carried their son up the stairs as Lena went around to check if the doors were locked. “Strike one,” she said softly to herself. Then she followed her family upstairs.

 

****

_Saturday_

 

When Lena walked into the house she was shocked to find that it was completely silent. “Stef? Kids?” she called.

“In here,” her partner’s voice called back. Stef was laying lazily on the couch, reading the newspaper.

“Where are the kids?” asked Lena.

 Stef put down the magazine to smile at her. “At friends’ houses. All of them. Brandon wanted to bring Mikey here, but I told him to go to his house instead. We have the house all to ourselves.”

“Yeah?” Lena was impressed at Stef’s Machiavellian planning.

“Yup. I wasn’t expecting you back so early though,” Stef said, sitting up and beckoning her over to the couch.

“I got done with my errands faster than I thought,” Lena said, walking towards her partner and shedding her purse, coat, and keys haphazardly as she went. She made it to Stef and straddled her easily, grinning when her partner made a slight “oof” sound. “Say anything,” she warned her, “And our fun’s going to be over before it starts.”

Miracle of miracles, Stef restrained herself from any smartass remark. Instead she said, “I’ve been dreaming about this for awhile.”

“Me too,” said Lena, basking in the pleasure of being able to touch her partner’s face, pushing her hair gently to put it behind her ears.

Stef’s grin was sweet but managed to look slightly wolfish as well. She pulled Lena until the apex of their thighs brushed, leaving her hands resting on Lena’s denim clad backside. “I thought I was going to explode last night. Door locked, everyone sleeping, then Mariana and her upset stomach.”

Lena deftly lifted Stef’s red baseball shirt over her head. “It would have been cruel to leave her crying outside the door.”

Stef sighed happily as she felt Lena’s hands gently stroke her over her bra. “I know that. But we barely had a chance to kiss and…”

Lena silenced her by covering her mouth in a kiss, “Stop talking about last night and get your head in the game, Foster.”

Stef laughed as she unbuttoned Lena’s lavender silk shirt. “I love it when you use sports analogies.”

“That’s why-,” Lena shuddered when Stef touched a particularly sensitive area, “That’s why I do it.”

Stef’s chuckled rumbled throughout her body as she lowered her mouth to Lena’s breast. She felt Lena sigh sweetly as she palmed her breast again. Lena traced last patterns on Stef’s outer and inner thighs while she felt her bra being removed. Stef made a sharp noise of pleasure when Lena ran her finger over the seam of her jeans. Stef moved in for a hard kiss and Lena used that moment to remove Stef’s bra and toss it behind her. Stef whimpered and ran her hands relentlessly up and done Lena’s back, her hips beginning to move slowly. Lena unbuttoned Stef’s jeans and lowered the zipper -

“Mom? Mama?”

Lena hauled herself sideways pulling Stef down to the couch beside her. She made a quick grab for her shirt while Stef frantically zipped up her pants. Unfortunately in the struggle, they landed hard on the floor.

“Mom, Mama? Are you home?” Now Jesús sounded like he was in the kitchen.

Stef made a dive for her shirt and bra in the middle of the floor but was hampered by a set of giggles.

“Stop laughing,” hissed Lena, only to start giggling herself.

Stef had half-buttoned her shirt when Jesús appeared in the living room. “Hey! There you guys are. I was calling. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Sorry, honey,” Lena said from her position on the floor, “Mom and I were sleeping.”

“Oh,” Jesús frowned at Stef. “Why are you in the middle of the floor?”

“When you shouted, you woke me up and I…rolled,” Stef lied semi-glibly.

“Oh,” this time Jesús’s frown was deeper. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and both Lena and Stef inwardly prayed that would be the extent of his curiosity. “Okay.”

“Why are you home, love?” asked Stef, trying to regain some dignity.

“I wanted to get my cards, so I could trade with Drew,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, okay. Well, why don’t you go get them then,” Lena said weakly waving her hand in the direction of the upstairs.

“Okay,” he said agreeably, setting off to do so. He paused, then frowned. “Were you guys folding laundry before your nap?”

“What? Why?” asked Stef on high alert.

“’Cause one of your…women things is on the couch,” he gestured uncomfortably in that direction.

Lena and Stef turned in tandem to see Lena’s lacy purple bra laying on top of the couch. “Uhh,” Stef choked.

“Yes,” interposed Lena swiftly. “We were. I’m glad you spotted that, we must’ve missed it when we took the rest upstairs,” she was thankful her darker complexion hid most of her blush. Stef wasn’t so lucky. They needed to get Jesús out of there before he noticed. “Go get your cards sweetie, before Drew decides he doesn’t want to trade anymore.”

Jesús ran up the stairs, neither noticing nor hearing that his mothers had collapsed in a fit of giggles again. When they heard Jesús’s goodbye and click of the door, Lena lay back in Stef’s arms. “Strike two,” she sighed…and giggled again.

 

***

_Wednesday_

 

Stef hear her partner humming in the shower. She hesitated in the hallway, then forged ahead. To hell with it. She opened their bathroom door quietly, the steam warm and inviting. The glow of the candles flickered against the walls. Stef dropped her clothes in seconds and parted the curtain.

“Stef! What are you doing here!” Lena exclaimed.

“Taking a shower,” Stef said with a smirk.

“We can’t! The kids are still up!”

Stef was completely distracted, watching the water run down her partner’s body. “They won’t even notice we’re gone. Please baby. I’m naked, your naked. We’re naked together…Please…please,” Stef moved to her partner and enveloped her mouth in a kiss. She felt Lena melt into her as the shower spray splashed into her eyes. She moaned a little when Lena let her tongue flicker gently in her mouth. Lena cupped Stef’s face, and caressed her cheek. Stef ran her hands down her partner’s back, all the way to her butt, where she grasped and pulled Lena into her. Lena moaned softly and used one hand to stroke Stef’s stomach, then went upwards to circle her breast. They were grinding against one another, gently but with enough friction to cause pleasure. Stef lowered her hand -

“Mama, Mom?” Mariana knocked on the door.

Lena groaned in frustration and Stef tore herself away with a gasp.

“What do you want Mariana?” asked Stef tensely.

“The boy’s are in the bathroom and I really have to go!” said Mariana.

“Tell the boys you really need to go then,” said Stef in frustration.

“I did but Brandon’s in the shower and Jesús said he had to go too!” Mariana wailed.

“Maybe she could pee outside,” whispered Stef.

“Stef! She’s not a boy and I wouldn’t want them to– nevermind,” Lena raised her voice. “Come in sweetie.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when Mariana burst in. “Thank you, I’m sorry,” she said in one long breath, flipping the lights on as she spoke.

They heard the toilet seat flip up and the sound of someone relieved to be on the toilet. “Mama, Mom? Are you taking a shower together?”

“Uh-huh,” said Stef, rolling her eyes at Lena. In the bright lights of the bathroom, soaking wet, sexually frustrated, and being interrogated by their daughter, she felt ridiculous.

“Why?” asked Mariana.

“To save water,” said Lena, blinking at Stef through the shower spray.

“Oh,” said Mariana thoughtfully. They heard the clunk of the toilet closing, flush… and then PAIN when the water turned super hot. Both of them yelped, loudly.

“Oops, sorry!” said Mariana, she paused at the doorway. “Do you want me to turn out the lights to save electricity too?” she asked innocently.

Stef dropped her head on Lena’s chest. “Yeah, please baby. Don’t forget to wash your hands,” she mumbled

“I will!” Mariana chirped, cheerful once again.

Stef left her head where it was, letting Lena sooth it with her hands. “Strike three?” she asked her partner.

“Strike three,” confirmed Lena.

“In baseball, that would mean we were out,” Stef pointed out wearily.

“This isn’t baseball. We’re not out of the game yet,” Lena said, punctuating her words with a kiss.

 

***

_Friday Evening_

 

“I think the lesson we learned was to not have sex in the house,” grumbled Stef, checking her hair in the mirror

“I agree,” Lena dangled a room card in front of her partner’s face, clad in a slinky dark-red dress.

“Yeah?” asked Stef, pathetically appreciative.

“Uh-huh. Baby-sitter’s on her way. We don’t have to be back until midnight,” Lena gave her make-up one last adjustment.

“I love you so much,” sighed Stef happily.

“Game’s on, Coach,” Lena said archly, touching her hair one last time, and waltzing out the bedroom door.

“Take me out to the ball game,” sang Stef softly, and turned off the lights.

 

 

 

 


	6. Piano Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s been in my head for awhile. The show seem to be really pushing the blue collar aspect of Stef’s upbringing and Brandon seems to share a lot of characteristics with Lena. I love to think about why and how that developed. This story kind of entwines those aspects. Thanks for the reviews and kudos.

Ch. 6: Piano Lessons 

Lena smiled indulgently at her child as he played quietly beside her desk. Normally, he was in after care when the school day ended, but he had begged his mothers to be allowed to “hang out” in Lena’s office. This had caused a minor disagreement between them.

_“He needs to be with other kids, love,” said Stef, trying to talk and balance her checkbook at the same time. “Be social.”_

_“I know that Stef,” Lena said patiently. “I work with kids all day, remember? But I also think he needs some time to himself.”_

_Stef stopped in the midst of calculating some new numbers. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with him?”_

_Lena sighed and smiled at her gregarious wife. Both she and Mike were outgoing and extroverted. “Nothing’s wrong with him, sweetheart. He’s just more introverted. He needs some time to recoup and recharge. Like…,” she hesitated and felt suddenly self-conscious._

_“Like…”_

_“Like me,” Lena finished bravely._

_Her partner opened her mouth, then closed it, a thoughtful expression flitting across her face. “Yeah, you’re right.” A delighted grin crossed her face. “That’s a lot like you actually.”_

_Lena shrugged like it was no big deal, but felt that warm sense of belonging that she felt so strongly around her partner and child. “Yeah.”_

_Stef grinned some more. “Okay. A couple days then?”_

_“That seems fair,” Lena said._

_Brandon had been delighted when they told him the news. He had hugged Stef tightly, then skipped over to hug Lena. When he tipped his head up to look at her, Lena shared his look of delight._

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Brandon, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Lena asked her son.

The little boy dropped his hands immediately to his khaki covered sides. “Nothing.”

Lena smiled at him encouragingly. “That wasn’t ‘nothing’ sweetheart. It looked like you were having fun.”

Brandon nodded shyly, twisting his hands in his red striped shirt. The start of a self-conscious smile appeared on his face. “I was just playing,” he said.

“I understand that you were playing,” Lena grinned back. “But _what_ were you playing?”

“No I’m _playing_ ,” he emphasized, waving his hand lightly.

Lena opened her mouth to speak, then tilted her head slightly. The strains of  the classical music she listened to was faintly discernable. “You were playing…”, she paused to think about his finger movements. “You were playing piano?” she asked.

The brilliant but still-shy smile told her she was right. She tracked the movement in her mind’s eye. His actually seemed to be fingering chords. Lena looked at him speculatively. “Would you like to learn to play piano Brandon?”

He looked down at his fingers again and entwined them with one another. When he looked at her, there was faint hope in his face. “Kinda?”

Brandon was such a good kid, eager to please, that trying to get his opinion could be difficult.

“You mean, you’re not sure you want to play piano?” Lena questioned.

“No, I wanna play,” he said, looking at her plaintively.

 “Brandon. Honey. You’re going to have to be a little more clear about what you want, because I’m a little confused here.”

He drew closer to her chair and leaned on her knee which was a clear sign he wanted to sit in her lap. She pushed her chair further from her desk and pulled him onto her lap. The little boy fiddled lightly with the sleeve of her maroon blouse, giving her sidewise, anxious glances. Lena sat calmly, patting his back once and awhile but deliberately not rushing him. Brandon was a precise little boy and very well-spoken, but he needed time to decide what to say. Finally he took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. “I want to play piano. But what if…what if people think its faggy?”

Lena bit back her initial response that she didn’t want  that particular word used as an epithet.  “Why would you think that playing piano was…faggy?” she asked, voice controlled.

Silence again. He fiddled some more, deliberately not looking at her. “Brandon,” she prompted after a couple minutes had gone by.

He sighed. “I might’ve, sort’ve heard it from one of Daddy’s friends,” he admitted.

Lena immediately felt anger, hot and vicious, sweep through her body. “You what?” she asked, outwardly calm.

A sideways glance. “I was s’posed to be sleeping but I got up for water. Daddy and Pete were talking. Pete was kinda laughing and said Daddy should make sure and watch me so’s I wasn’t doing anything faggy now, like dancing.”

“What did your dad say?” asked Lena.

“He got mad an’ grabbed Pete by his shirt and told Pete not to say anything like that again.”

Lena was relieved and grateful. Stef had said Mike was having a tough time with the other cops. She was getting crap from some of them but they were also giving Mike his fair share too, maybe even more then Stef. She looked at the little boy. “Pete wasn’t being nice, nor was he even remotely accurate. Playing piano or dancing isn’t “faggy”, it is wonderful. And he shouldn’t have used that word to describe anything. Saying ‘fag’ is like a swear against men who love each other, like your mom and I love each other.”

“Oh,” Brandon seemed to shrink in on himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was swearing.”

Lena immediately cuddled him. “I’m not mad at you baby. Not the tiniest, smallest bit. Pete’s the one who was wrong.”

“But playing the piano’s for girls. That’s what he was saying, right?” asked Brandon, ever astute.

Lena sighed. Kids were incredibly gender conscious, no matter how much you tried to change it. “Playing piano isn’t girly,” she said carefully. “There’s boys and men all over the world who play piano. But…” she forced herself to be honest, “There are probably more girls then boys that play piano.”

Brandon nodded thoughtfully and let his head rest lightly on her chest. “I still wanna play,” he said after a few minutes of silent contemplation. “I hear music in my head sometimes. I want to be able to play it.”

Lena hugged him tightly and dropped a kiss on his dark head. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” she said firmly.

“Will you tell Mommy?” he asked, worry evident again in his voice.

“Mommy will be thrilled,” she said swallowing her own unease. And if she wasn’t…well Lena Adams was not known for backing down.

She was grateful when she broached the subject that evening with Stef, without the benefit of little ears listening in.

“He what?” Stef seemed simultaneously amused and uneasy.

“He wants to take piano lessons,” repeated Lena, crossing her arms and fixing her partner with a steady look.

Stef dried her hands on a kitchen towel and walked over the refrigerator to rummage among the food. “Why does he want to do that?” she asked, voice slightly muffled.

Lena, all to aware of her partner’s avoidance techniques waited until she had found an apple and cheese and had placed them on the table. “He says he hears music in his head and he wants to play it.”

A look of consternation pressed itself into Stef’s face and her arm stopped, midway through supplying her mouth with a slice of cheese. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lena said.

Stef put down the cheese and nervously drummed her fingers on the table. “Huh. Where do you think that comes from? With two Neanderthals like me and Mike supplying the genes?”

“Hey!” said Lena sharply. She hated when Stef did that. It didn’t happen often but there were times when Stef became self-conscious about her lack of college education and culture. “You’re smart, Stef. You read and you have that crazy cop mind where you remember practically everything you see.”

Stef shrugged and ate a slice of an apple. Luckily for Lena, Stef didn’t take as long to process as Brandon and her real worry came out. “Do you think he’s going to get teased?” she asked softly. “I mean, he has two moms and now he’s going to take piano lessons.”

Lena went over to her partner and put her arms around her waist, hugging her gently and kissing her neck. “He might, sweetheart. But we can’t let that stop him. He hears music. He was drumming on my desk today like it was a piano. We can’t deny him this opportunity.”

Stef turned so they were forehead to forehead and sighed deeply. “Yeah.” She leaned closer and pressed her lips against Lena’s. Lena tasted apples on her tongue. “Maybe I should teach him how to punch though. Just in case someone starts something with him.”

Lena laughed, and drew herself away slightly. “Not at school,” she said warningly. “And teach him to protect his hands, it’s going to be hard to be a musician without them.”

“A musician,” Stef said in wonder. Lena just smiled.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Brandon’s piano lessons started the next week. Lena studied instructor bios intensely and asked opinions from anyone who had ever had their child taking lessons. Overwhelmingly, she heard one name. Miss Porter. The name was also accompanied by eye rolls and whistles of amazement. Lena made an appointment for his first lesson.

She decided to stay and watch the first lesson. She wanted to make sure Miss Porter was a good match for her sensitive son. After the first ten minutes, she was sure it was a good match, but she also spent the time in alternating hysterics or wonder. When she got home she relayed the entire first lesson for Stef, complete with mimicry. “Miss Porter is something else. She’s this portly woman who looks like she’s in her 80s. She looks like a million other grandmothers but oh my G-d, when you talk to her…She started by telling him that he would behave like a gentleman when he was at his lessons: he would address her as Miss Porter or ma’am, he was to answer each question she asked with a complete sentence, no chewing gum, no candy, no passing gas, and no playing with Mr. Willy. I thought Brandon was going to die of embarrassment. Then she made him sit up straight and keep his palms and fingers at a forty-five degree angle when he played.”

“Brandon must have been terrified,” Stef said, sitting on their bed in her pajamas looking like a girl at a slumber party.

“You would think that, but I think he really likes her. He can’t wait for his next lesson. He asked if he could go to two lessons a week,” Lena said, changing into her own yellow themed pajamas.

“Huh. He really liked her?”

“Yup,” Lena crawled into bed with her partner. “He really does.” She kissed Stef and snuggled into her side.

“Okay then,” said Stef to the encroaching darkness. “Okay.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Finding a place for Brandon to practice had led to another discussion. They talked about renting a keyboard, or a piano, but honestly, money was really tight. They had just bought the house about six months ago and had needed to make some repairs before moving in. It had been worth it, but expensive.

Brandon, who had been listening on the stairs, came up with the solution. “I can practice at school,” he volunteered.

Stef sighed and rolled her eyes. “Young man, are you sneaking around and listening to a private conversation?”

“It’s about me!” Brandon protested immediately.

“Come down here, please,” demanded Lena.

Brandon slowly plodded down the stairs and presented himself to his mothers.

“Brandon, we don’t like when you listen to conversations like that. It’s sneaky and rude. Sometimes adults need to have a private conversation,” said Lena.

“I’m sorry,” Brandon hung his head. “But I heard my name and got curious.”

“You need to curb that curiosity so it doesn’t get you in trouble, my friend,” said Stef sternly.

Brandon nodded quickly and then peeked up at them from under his eyelashes. “But I have a good idea, don’t I?  I can practice in the music room. Mrs. Clemmons leaves early because she works early in the morning to teach orchestra. I could go in there and practice on her piano. I mean,” he said hastily as Lena opened her mouth to speak, “If she’s okay with it.”

Lena and Stef traded thoughtful glances. “We’ll see,” said Lena. “I’m sure using the music room for twenty minutes a day wouldn’t be too much of an imposition on anyone.”

“I wanna practice for an hour a day,” Brandon said immediately.

Stef froze him with a glare. None of his parents were fond of phrases that began with ‘I wanna’.

“I mean, please may I practice for an hour a day?” Brandon said meekly.

“No Brandon. Miss Porter said twenty minutes a day was plenty for a little boy,” Lena said.

Brandon’s lips immediately pushed forward in a pout. “But I…”

“Uh-uh,” said Stef. “You will not argue with your mama or me.”

“But…!”

“Okay, Brandon. I think you need to go cool down for a minute,” Lena interrupted. “Go sit on the couch and take some deep breaths. I’ll come get you when your time is up.”

Brandon barely restrained himself from stomping over to the living room, knowing he was treading on thin ice with his mom.

Lena touched her partner’s arm gently, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Deep breaths, honey. He feels really strongly about this.”

“Okay. Okay. But he can’t be rude.”

“Of course not,” said Lena. “It’s a good idea though. I’ll talk to Mrs. Clemmons.”

Stef nodded, and looked at their son who was sitting on the couch, arms folded and pout still firmly entrenched on his face.

“Stubborn little brat, isn’t he,” said Stef fondly.

“Uh-huh. And he’s all ours,” said Lena.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Brandon had been transported with delight when he found out Miss Porter was going to have a concert for her students. Even though he hadn’t been taking lessons long, and was assured by both his mothers and Miss Porter it wasn’t necessary, he desperately wanted to participate. He tried to sneak in extra practice (terrifying the aftercare workers when they couldn’t find him) and was immediately excluded from a week’s worth of practice as punishment. After that he assiduously followed the rules but was able to wheedle a little extra practice time when he had his “Lena days”. But he was so secretive that she was starting to worry a bit.

“Why can’t I listen to you practice?” she asked gently one afternoon.

“Please no, Lena. I want it to be a surprise for you and Mommy at the concert. Please? Don’t come listen. Let me surprise you,” his eyes shone with sincerity.

“Alright,” Lena said with some regret. She really wanted to hear how he was progressing. Miss Porter said he was doing very well, but Lena thought that was something she probably said to all of her students’ parents. After all, they were shelling out quite a bit of money for these lessons.

“Do you promise you won’t sneak a listen?” Brandon asked.

“Brandon, I don’t sneak!” said Lena in mock-outrage.

He giggled and held his fingers out in the Boy Scout salute. “Promise?”

“I promise.” And thought it nearly killed her with curiosity, she kept her word.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The evening of the concert, Brandon dressed himself carefully in dark gray slacks and a navy blue silken shirt that Lena had bought him. He presented himself and a silver tie to his mother.

Stef took the tie from him and bit her tongue before saying something smart-alecky about his meticulousness. Mike had said something once, in passing when Brandon had gotten all dressed up for an Easter Egg hunt. He meant it as a joke, both he and Stef had laughed, but it had hurt their sensitive little boy’s feelings. Mike had felt terribly and even though he apologized profusely, Brandon’s hurt had remained throughout much of the day.

She carefully knotted the tie and turned him to look at her. “You look very handsome, love,” she said tenderly.

“Thank you Mommy. You look very pretty too,” he said seriously.

Stef privately thought she didn’t hold a candle to Lena who was walking down the stairs looking like a beautiful goddess.

“What a handsome family!” exclaimed Lena. She adjusted Brandon’s  tie slightly and paused to kiss her partner. “Ready to go?”

Brandon hesitated. “Do you think Daddy might be able to come after all?” he asked.

Stef hesitated. “No baby, he has to work tonight. He pulled a night shift, but he’s really sorry he couldn’t come.” This was only partly the truth. He hadn’t pulled the night shift, he had asked for it. But he was sorry he couldn’t come. The combination of Lena, the piano lessons, and the guys at work was too much. He was angry at himself, and the rest of the world, and Stef knew it meant he was drinking more. She had suggested it might be better if he missed this one, and although visibly ashamed of himself, he agreed. Stef knew he could be a good father, he just needed to get his life back on track. “Let’s go,” she said.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Good evening Ladies and Gentleman,” exclaimed Miss Porter in her booming I-will-be-heard-in-the-back-of-the-theater voice.

Every single piano student and parent chimed back with “Good evening Miss Porter,”.  Stef immediately chuckled at the earnestness of the replies. Lena jabbed her viciously with her elbow. “Be quiet,” she hissed.

Stef barely managed to get her laughter under control. “We have now entered Stepford,” she managed in a monotonous voice. This time Lena pinched her thigh and she sobered immediately.  “Ow!”

“Shhh,” Lena warned again.

Miss Porter’s eyes traveled over them and Stef immediately adopted a sober mien. Satisfied, Miss Porter moved on. “I would like to thank you all for coming to the joint concert of Miss Porter’s piano students, and Mr. Mathison’s orchestral students. We will start with our beginners, and move on to our advanced students at the end. Please remain seated. Polite applause is appropriate. Bellowing, stamping, cheering, and whooping are not.”

“Are you sure you weren’t my first grade teacher?” Stef muttered loudly enough for her partner to hear.

The pinch Lena bestowed on her partner was softer and she kept her hand warmly on Stef’s upper thigh.

“Parents, do not leave the auditorium after your child is done and try to take them to avoid the rest of the concert.” Miss Porter continued. “It is extremely rude and Mr. Mathison and I will not longer accept your child as our student if you cannot extend common courtesy.”

They was a bit of murmuring from the orchestral students’ parents and Mr. Mathison looked slightly uncomfortable. Miss Porter’s families nodded with great understanding and obedience.

“My G-d,” you were not kidding about this lady,” said Stef with complete awe. “I think we could use her down at the station.”

Lena murmured an agreement. She could use her at the school.

“On with the show!” Miss Porter exclaimed.

The first few piano students weren’t bad. Their timid plinking of the keys was even kind of cute, mostly because they were done in about thirty seconds. The orchestral students though…Stef winced at the thirtieth squeak of the strings. “I can’t take it anymore,” she whispered to Lena frantically. “They all suck.”

Lena nudged her as several parents around them scowled at her partner. Stef frowned at them right back, completely undaunted. “Shhh.”

“I’m serious Lena. I’m getting a headache. You call me when Brandon comes up,” she began to stand.

Lena grabbed her shirt and yanked her down, hard and whispered in her ear. “Stef. You will stay here beside me and listen to this terrible music. Brandon will be up and done in seconds. You would miss it, and feel terrible. Sit down, and shut up.”

“But I’m…”

Lena raised an eyebrow at her and Stef subsided with a pout, much like their son’s. Lena rubbed her shoulder comfortingly and whispered a promise into her ear. After that, Stef sat through the music with a large smile plastered across her face.

“Brandon  Foster,” announced Miss Porter.

Brandon walked onto the stage and gravely bowed, as all the male piano students had done. The girls had executed damn near perfect curtsies, no doubt taught by the formidable Miss Porter. Then he seated himself at the piano bench. The song was clearly more advanced then the rest of the beginning piano students, and by the end both Lena and Stef were grinning in foolish pride. When he was done, Brandon hopped off the bench, and executed another bow. Lena and Stef clapped with all their might.

“Brandon would  also like to play for you, a song he composed himself. Brandon, would you like to say anything about it?” questioned Miss Porter holding the mike towards him.

Brandon shyly took the microphone from her. “It’s for my moms,” he said, and handed the microphone back quickly. When he hopped on the bench again, his mothers held their breath. It was a simple melody but it had so much of Brandon’s sweet, endearing nature in it, that Stef felt her eyes fill up. Lena grasped her hand tightly as tears filled her own eyes. When he was done Brandon bowed again, but this time, he also blew a kiss towards his mothers. His mothers pretended to catch it.

The rest of the concert passed in a bit of a blur. The more advanced students were better, which made listening more of a pleasure instead of a chore. But both Lena and Stef only listened with half an ear. Their child’s melody continued to play in their heads.

When it was over, Stef practically bolted down to where the children were sitting. Her excitement at her son’s accomplishment knew no bounds. “You did great buddy!” she whooped, throwing him bodily in the air while he laughed in delight.

“Ms. Foster,” Miss Porter warned in prim disapproval from behind her.

Lena watched, completely amused as her normally confident partner, whipped around and faced Miss Porter with childish chagrin. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“This is not at an amusement park Ms. Foster. This is a concert hall. Please behave as such.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Stef meekly.

Lena barely managed to cover her laughter as her partner looked wide–eyed from her to the other woman.

“You did a wonderful job Brandon,” said Miss Porter, pretending to ignore Stef. “You should be enormously proud of yourself.

“Thank you Miss Porter,” Brandon said politely.

Miss Porter swept on to her next student, but not without giving Lena a conspiratorial wink.

Brandon came over to Lena and put his arms around her. “I did good, Mama?” he asked.

“You did wonderfully, baby,” Lena said.

“You’re a real musician Brandon now,” said Stef quietly.

Brandon’s grin was contagious. “I always was.”

 

 


	7. Road Trip

Ch. 7: Road Trip!

Raten M-ish 

It didn’t take long for Stef to decide that this vacation might not be as relaxing as she had hoped it would be. She and Lena had decided to travel up to Seattle, stay for a few weeks, then make a side-trip to Disneyland on the way home. Getting the kids up early and packing the car had already used up Stef’s reserves of patience. Luckily, Lena seemed to have an underground well and was keeping everyone sane. Unfortunately, ninety minutes into their trip, their luck ran out when Mariana unexpectedly and with great force, vomited all over herself and her booster seat.

Lena, who had been driving, pulled into a restaurant parking lot as quickly as possible. After thirty minutes or so, Mariana had been cleaned off and wore a fresh set of clothing, and the car had been cleaned and sprayed with a flowery deodorant. Neither of the boys made any smart-alecky comments, mostly because Stef had pulled them aside and threatened death and dismemberment if they made Mariana feel bad about throwing up. But after being surrounded in the floral/vomit scent for a few seconds, Jesús muttered that he was going to start puking every time he smelled flowers. Brandon chuckled. Lena’s mom-radar must have been at high alert because she gave the boys a look and they instantly managed expressions of innocence.

They were less cautious when they found out that Mariana was going to have to have one of the window seats the entire trip.

“I don’t wanna sit in the middle,” whined Jesús. “I get squished when I’m in the middle.”

“Every time I sit in the middle, I get poked,” Brandon sulked. “And I can’t see anything. It sucks.”

Stef smacked her hand on the dash. “I don’t want to hear it. Mariana gets motion sick, we know that now. She needs to be by a window. Jesús, you’ll be in the middle seat first, then Brandon. You’ll switch off. And if I hear any whining about it, I’m going to tape your mouths shut and tie you to the roof.”

Any other day, these words might have made the children giggle, but Stef’s tone caused the children neither to laugh nor to take the threat lightly. The subsided in an uneasy silence.

Lena patted her partner’s hand in a slightly condescending way. “Way to keep the lines of communication open, honey.”

Stef sighed. “Seriously babe, don’t start with me.” Slouched in the passenger seat in her blue jeans and battered green t-shirt, she looked weary. It had been a particularly tough week, and although she had tried not to burden Lena with details, Lena sensed whatever it was had shaken her partner badly. She needed this vacation.

Lena started the car and reached out to touch her partner’s hand with delicate fingers. When she saw Stef’s posture ease, she ran her fingers up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. Stef relaxed even further, then caught her hand, and brought her fingertips to her lips. “Love you,” she said quietly.

The children watched quietly, then Mariana looked at her brothers. “Sorry,” she mumbled, tightly clutching the plastic bag that their moms had given her.

Brandon began to feel bad. “It’s okay Mariana. Stuff like that happens to a lot of people.”

Jesús nodded, “Don’t worry about it Mariana. We aren’t mad at you. Honest.”

Terrified that she might throw-up again, and warned that she should try to avoid looking down too much, Mariana gazed quietly out the window and sang softly to herself.

The drive was peaceful for twenty minutes. “Mama, I need to use the bathroom,” said Jesús.

Stef twisted around to stare at him incredulously. “Jesús, we were just at the restaurant twenty minutes ago.”

“I didn’t have to go then.”

Stef released an explosive sigh. “All right, we’ll be at a rest stop in a little bit. You can go there.”

“But I gotta peeeeee,” whined Jesús.

“Five minutes Jesús. You can wait five minutes,” Stef’s tone was warning.

Brandon nudged him sharply when Jesús opened his mouth. He shook his head significantly.

“Fine,” muttered Jesús looking surly, but adorable in his blue and red striped shirt.

When they reached the rest stop, all the children were ordered to use the bathroom.

“I don’t have to go,” said Brandon as Jesús, Mariana, and Lena headed for the restrooms.

“Try anyway,” said Stef, leaning against the side of the car.

“I’m eight,” he protested grumpily. “I know when I have to pee or not.”

His mother glared at him. “Brandon Foster. I suggest you don’t push me right now, do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

Brandon gulped and took an uneasy step backwards. “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Good choice, buddy,” said Stef dryly.

xoxoxoxo

Stef was relieved that the drive had been going well after the earlier problems. They had eaten at a roadside diner and the kids were delighted to be able to order whatever they wanted. She drove conservatively, glancing into the back mirror every once and awhile to watch her children. Jesús, after whining almost non-stop about having to sit in the middle, had switched seats with an irritated Brandon and was now happily playing his Game-Boy. This was a rare treat for him, as his mothers only allowed it on car trips. Mariana’s chin was almost to her chest, on the edge of sleep, and Brandon was eagerly devouring Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. He had discovered the Harry Potter books three weeks ago. His grandparents had bought him the entire series, in hardcover, and he was now eagerly awaiting the sixth book’s release that summer.

She smiled and looked to her partner, who was also paging quietly through a book. Lena seemed to feel her partner’s gaze, and she looked up with a soft smile. “What?”

“Just enjoying the scenery,” Stef said whimsically, darting a glance back at the road.

“Mushy,” Lena teased, allowing the book to close and stretching.  Stef allowed her eyes to linger pleasurably.

“Don’t look at me like that when we have a carful of them,” Lena said with a small smile and a jerk of her hand to indicate their children.

Stef grinned and returned her gaze to the road. The boring, completely unsexy road. Right as she was beginning to let herself feel grumpy about this fact, Lena stretched her hand out and Stef dropped her right hand into her partner’s, letting them lay on the seat between them.

Stef used her thumb to stroke the other woman’s palm, and ran it up her wrist. She was brought out of a vivid fantasy involving Lena and some scented oils when her partner spoke.

“I’m not sure about exposing Mariana to the gender and ethnic myopathy of the Disney Princesses,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, on one hand…”

Stef groaned and let go of her hand. “Again? They’re make-believe, love. And they’re all Mariana has been talking about for weeks. Weeks! We’re going to see them.” Brandon had, in fact, fueled his sister eagerness by telling her she could even get their **autographs** and actually have her _picture taken with them_! Mariana had bought a pink autograph book in preparation.

Lena’s frown grew deeper and she drummed her fingers absently on the dashboard. “I’m just not sure. I mean, I remember having this talk with my mom when I was Mariana’s age. We were discussing some of the stereotypes perpetuated in Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and…”

Her partner interrupted her again. “When you were seven? You had that conversation with Dana when you were seven?”

“Well, yes. I mean, I wanted to watch it and she said that…”

This time Stef’s groan was even louder as she contemplated banging her head against the steering wheel. “When I was seven, my parents were just glad I stopped eating paste.”

“Ew,” said Lena, her beautiful face crinkled with disgust. “You ate paste?”

“It tasted good,” Stef defended herself. “Salty.”

Lena gave her a look that clearly said I’m-not-sure-I’m-going-to-kiss-or-ever-have-sex-with-you-again.

“I grew up eating TV dinners,” Stef defended herself. “I’m lucky I can appreciate anything I taste now.”

Her partner gave her the kind of look that made it feel like all the air had gone out of the space around them. “I mean…”

“I know what you mean babe,” Lena said significantly.

Stef began seriously debating whether she could still kiss and maintain the sixty miles per hour speed. Of course she could! She was a cop, multi-tasking was part of the -

“Jesús stop it!” yelled Brandon.

Lena turned quickly to see Jesús poking Brandon. “Jesús. Stop bothering your brother. What’s going on?”

“My Gameboy ran out of power. I need to charge it,” said Jesús, handing her the toy.

“Well, we can’t do it now. I told you to remember to charge it last night. You’ll have to wait until we get to the hotel.”

Jesús pouted in disappointment. “What do I do now?”

“You can read, do one of your puzzle books, color,” Lena listed as Jesús shook his head stubbornly at each suggestion. “Or we could work on your addition and subtraction flashcards,” Lena warned.

This time, Jesús shook his head quickly. “I’ll find something to do,” he mumbled contritely.

Lena turned to face the windshield in satisfaction. Stef gave her a high five.

Jesús was occupied with his puzzle book for about five minutes before he grew bored. He dropped the book, leaned back in his seat, and sighed heavily. He looked at his sister, who was sleeping peacefully, then watched his brother’s eyes as they scanned each page quickly. When he saw the grin spread over Brandon’s face, he nudged his arm. “What happened? Why are you smiling?” he asked.

Brandon moved his arm out of his brother’s grasp. “It’s just a funny part in the book. Get off me, okay?”

“I wanna see it,” Jesús said, trying to grab his brother’s book.

“Stop it Jesus!” yelled Brandon, trying to move away from him in the small space. “You don’t even read chapter books yet!”

“Brandon Michael,” warned Lena from the passenger seat, twisting around to look at him. “That was not kind. Apologize, please.”

Brandon faced his brother and rolled his eyes hugely, knowing his mothers couldn’t see him. “Sorry Jesús.”

Jesús scowled at him, grabbed his book, and threw it out the open window.

“Mo-om!!” howled Brandon. He reached back and punched Jesús in the shoulder.

Stef looked in the mirror in time to see the book hit the road. “Boys!”

“Brandon! Jesús!” snapped Lena. “Stop right –“

Jesús blocked another punch and shoved Brandon as hard as he could. As Brandon fell sideways, he knocked heads with the still dozing Mariana. She woke and began sobbing in pain and confusion.

Swearing, Stef looked for an opening so she could pull over. Both boys had fallen quiet before Stef swerved to the side of the road and braked hard. She unfastened her seatbelt and turned to glare at them. “Out of the car. Right now!” she ordered. She jerked open her own door.

Both boys sat unmoving, looking like rabbits in front of an oncoming truck. She opened the back door on the driver’s side, while Lena helped a weeping Mariana out of the car. Stef’s face was livid as she leaned into Jesús. “Out of the car,” she said, her voice low.

Jesús moved slowly, not daring to look at his mother. Brandon crawled out after him, his face tense. He had rarely seen his mother this angry. Without speaking, she lead them to the safety of the other side of the car. She led Brandon to the front of the car, where the front passenger seat car hung open and planted him near the hood of the car. “Keep you butt glued right here,” she warned him. Brandon, deciding that was probably safest, nodded emphatically. Jesús was watching wide-eyed, and he cringed a little when Stef grabbed his arm. Stef ignored that and took him the back of the car. She turned him so his butt was touching the cargo area door. “Stay there,” she warned him. He also nodded silently.

Stef took a deep breath, marveling that her children could drive her so crazy when she spent most of her day dealing with criminals. She looked at her partner who had picked up Mariana and was consoling her quietly. Stef walked over to them. “You okay, baby?” she asked quietly, stroking Mariana’s long, dark hair as she did so.

Mariana nodded, tears still falling. “Uh-huh.”

Stef eyed the boys, then turned to Lena. “I’m going to try and get Brandon’s book.”

Lena nodded, also casting a frustrated look at the boys who were standing stiffly against the car.

As soon as his mother was out of hearing range, Brandon cast an imploring look at Lena. “Mama -,” he began.

Lena raised her hand. “Don’t even start with me, young man. You are in time out right now. You know the rules. No talking.”

Brandon subsided miserably. He was dead. Lena watched her partner’s figure grow smaller as she traversed the distance the book had travelled. She sighed and patted Mariana’s back, murmuring soothing words to her.

A maroon minivan pulled up behind their car and a concerned blonde peered out the passenger side window. “Are you okay?” she asked, “Do you need any help?”

Two little blond heads gazed out the backseat windows as well.

Lena looked at her sulking sons and her quietly sniffling daughter. “Uh. No. Thank you,” she called back. “It’s just…,” she waved her arm expansively, including it all. “Road trip.”

The woman  shook her head in commiseration. “Good luck with that.”

Lena gave her a wry smile. “Thanks again for stopping.”

“No problem,” the woman replied. She turned to her husband and murmured something, then the car pulled back into traffic.

Lena looked at her sons.  Brandon, humiliated that someone had witnessed his disgrace was red-faced studying the ground beneath his feet. Jesús, not prone to that type of embarrassment was using the toe of his sneakers to trace designs in the dirt. Lena shook her head ruefully, and went back to consoling her daughter.

Walking the distance to get the book allowed Stef to calm down and regain a shred of her usual good humor. Her babies. She sighed when she found the book lying open on the side of the road. Tire tracks and torn pages indicated that it had been run over. She knew Brandon was going to be upset. She walked back to the car, resolving to let Lena talk to Jesús while she talked to Brandon. Lena was the one who could remind Jesús about all those calming techniques and ways to curb his impulsivity. When she got closer to the car, she noted that Brandon was still standing stiffly, barely daring to glance around him. His orange and blue t-shirt flapped in the breeze. Jesús was also still in place, but he was crouched on the ground, letting the dirt run through his fingers. He had managed to smear dirt on the knees of his jeans too. Stef walked to her partner, who had lowered Mariana to the ground and was pointing out a falcon.

Stef showed Lena the book, who sighed quietly. “Brandon’s going to be pretty upset,” she said.

Stef nodded. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him, okay? You know all that self-control stuff you can talk to Jesús about.”

Lena nodded, but her gaze went to Brandon with some sympathy. “Did you talk to them about why they’re in time out?” she asked her partner.

Stef rolled her eyes. “Honey, if they don’t know why they’re in time-out we have bigger problems.”

Lena nudged her with her shoulder. “It’s the process,” she reminded her partner. “Make him verbalize why he’s in time out, discuss, then tell him his punishment.”

The words that Lena had taught her still sounded foreign on her lips. She felt strange saying things like “use I-messages” or “we love you, but we don’t love your choices”. Her first impulse was to say things like, “It’s not fair? I’ll tell you kid, if you think first grade is tough, the rest of your life is going to be hell.” But she couldn’t argue with results. Her kids were pretty good at communicating. Better than she had been at their age anyway. Stef raised an eye-brow. “Punishment?” she asked, inviting Lena’s opinion.

“No TV. Maybe an early bedtime. They’re so cranky, they probably need more sleep.”

Stef nodded. Since they were all sharing a hotel room, punishing the boys meant punishing themselves. Ah, the joys of parenthood. She walked over to Brandon. Lena patted Mariana once more on the head and instructed her to stay where she was before she headed over to Jesús.

Brandon took one look at his book and burst into tears. He wasn’t given to crying when he was physically hurt, but emotional situations tended to induce tears. Stef realized she wasn’t going to be able to do the first part of the time-out procedure until he had calmed down. She patted his back consolingly, biting back words like “this is what happens when you don’t behave” and other phrases her parents might have used. Mariana, who had been watching worriedly from her spot, ran over to Brandon and hugged him tightly around his waist. “Don’t cry Brandon,” she begged.

Jesús, seeing how upset his brother and sister were, began to look a little teary-eyed as well. Lena redirected his attention to her and preceded to deliver a searing lecture, punctuated with various strategies in dealing with impulsivity. Jesús nodded somberly.

When Brandon stopped crying, he swiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve and looked at his mother. “Do you know why you’re in time-out?” asked Stef softly. Brandon heaved a quavering sigh. “I was rude to Jesús and I hit him. I didn’t stop when you and Mama said stop.”

Stef nodded sternly. “That’s right. And that’s not okay young man. None of it. You are not allowed to be rude or hit your brother.” They actually allowed the boys to play fight and wrestle, but Stef knew she didn’t have to clarify that fact. Her son was not stupid. “And you are definitely not allowed to disobey Mama or me.”

Brandon nodded woefully, a sniffling sigh his only reply. “Losing your book because you were misbehaving is not fun, but that’s what happens. You are also going to go to bed at eight tonight with no TV. Do you understand me?”

Brandon nodded again and Stef raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes,” he whispered.

Lena led Jesús over to Brandon by his hand. “Jesús?” she prompted.

Jesús lifted his head to look at Brandon. “I’m sorry I bugged you and pushed you and threw your book out the window,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry I was rude and hit you,” Brandon said. At Lena’s insistence, the boys gave one another awkward hugs.

Stef grinned. Lena was always making the kids hug things out. It was endearing, and she was looking forward to trying it out when the boys were in their twenties.

Jesús looked genuinely remorseful. “I’m really sorry Brandon. I’ll buy you a new book out of my Disneyland money.”

Stef glanced meaningfully at her partner, and Lena shook her head, indicating that this idea had not come from her. A new hardcover could cost at least twenty dollars. That was a third of Jesús’s savings.

Brandon looked at his brother in surprise. “You can’t do that. It’s your Disneyland money. You’ve been saving for months.”

Jesús was firm. “It’s fair. I ruined your book, and I know how much you like Harry Potter.”

Mariana looked between her brothers. “I’ll give some of my money too,” she piped up loyally. Lena and Stef knew she was dying to buy Disney Princess everything. “That way Jesús can have enough too.”

Brandon gave her a small smile and Jesús shook his head. “I’ve got this Mariana. I can do it.”

“All right,” Stef stepped on the moment, rubbing her hands briskly. “Let’s get back on the road.”

 

xoxoxoxoxo

 

As usual, after a big blow up, the kids were unusually well-behaved. By the time they reached the motel, they were tired but giggly after Stef had spent the last thirty minutes telling progressively worse elephant jokes.  

“What do you call an elephant that doesn’t bathe?”

“What!”

“A smellephant!”

“What do you get if you cross and elephant with a whale?”

“What!”

“A submarine with a built-in snorkel!”

Even Lena was laughing amidst her groans. “You know that we are going to be hearing elephant jokes the rest of the way to Seattle,” she warned her partner.

“Yeah,” Stef’s grin was fond.

Lena parked the car at the hotel entrance and watched as Stef hopped out before the car had even stopped. “Thanks for leaving me at the mercy of the elephants!” Lena called out the window.

Stef gave her an exaggerated thumbs up. When she exited the building about ten minutes later, she had a large grin on her face.

“What did you do?” asked Lena.

Stef didn’t answer, instead directing her to the corner of the building and began unloading the car as soon as it had stopped.

The kids wearily stretched and gathered their things. Lena became more suspicious when her partner began whistling a strangely familiar tune.

“What did you do?” she asked again, placing her hands on her shapely hips and giving her partner a warning glance.

Stef swung another suitcase down, then encircled her partner’s waist with her arms. Then with one hand she waved two separate packages of keys in front of her face.

“You got us two rooms?” Lena asked.

“Yup,” Stef began hauling the suitcases to the hotel rooms.

“We didn’t plan on two rooms tonight,” said Lena. “We need to watch our money!” She was annoyed when Stef continued to ignore her, still wearing that smile. Lena gave up and trailed after her, pulling a suitcase. The kids fell in behind them like ducklings.

Stef opened one door, and used one hand to wave the kids in. “This is your room guys. That room over there,” she pointed, “is our room.”

She put down the suitcases and opened the adjoining door. Then she unplugged their television set and knotted the cord in a complicated Alpine Butterfly knot, giving the boys a significant look as she did so.

After they had eaten dinner and settled in for the night, Lena grabbed Stef, who was brushing her teeth. “What?” asked Stef around the foam.

Lena merely smiled and led her to the door that joined their room with their children’s. Brandon was in the middle of the bed, Mariana laying on his shoulder and Jesús laying on the pillows, his bare foot jiggling occasionally. Brandon was reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to them, complete with fake English accents and a high falsetto for Hermione.

“Aww,” Stef crooned.

Lena grinned and kissed the back of her neck. “Our babies,” she murmured.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef grinned as she watched Lena pretend to ignore her as she read another chapter in her book. Every once and a while she would peer at Stef from the corner of her eyes as Stef bustled around the room. Finally Stef decided to give in. She knelt with her knees on either side of Lena’s left leg and slid the book out of her hands.  She leaned down to kiss her, but not before brushing her thumb over her lips. Although she could happily spend her entire lifetime kissing Lena, she had other plans. “Turn over,” she said softly.

It didn’t take long to disrobe her lover. She let the oil she had brought warm in her hands, then ran them down Lena’s back and shoulders.

Lena sighed it pure bliss. “That feels so nice.”

Stef worked the oil into Lena’s skin with her strong hands. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done today…this whole week,” she said quietly. “You’ve been my rock. The only thing that’s been holding me together.”

Lena held her breath. Although Stef used endearments as her way of showing her love through words, she was much less apt to declare it so baldly. Lena’s heart melted as she realized how hard Stef was trying to show her appreciation and devotion.

“I love you so much,” whispered Stef. “Sometimes when I look at you, I can’t breath because I can’t believe you are really mine.”

Now tears formed in Lena’s eyes as Stef’s unrelenting fingers worked their magic on her body. “ I love you too,” Lena said. “More and more each day.” She turned over and captured Stef’s lips in a fierce kiss and crushed Stef’s body to her own. When Stef touched the soft silkiness of her inner thigh and moved her hand purposefully, her vision went dark, then bright sparkles spiraled into a blazing corona of white light.

Stef’s smiled sweetly as she drew the sheet over their bodies and spooned her body around her lover’s. She put her chin on Lena’s shoulder, and gently followed her into sleep.


	8. Barstow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, this was a suggestion from a guest reviewer on AO3. Lena’s birthday weekend in Barstow.
> 
> Thanks for the reviews, and kudos. It’s always nice to know that people are enjoying the story.

Ch. 8: Barstow 

It had been a massive series of bad luck that brought Lena and Stef to a diner that looked like it’s best days happened in 1953. Stef’s philosophy had always been “can’t ruin hamburgers!” It was close though. The cheeseburgers were so greasy that Stef could literally feel her arteries beginning to clog. She nearly lost it when the only alcohol the waitress could offer was a two dollar bottle of Prosecco.

“You want glasses?” the waitress asked with a teasing smirk.

“Do you think we’re going to drink straight out  of the bottle?” asked Stef incredulously. Yeah there were times where she would take a swig out of a beer bottle, but that was expected. The only people who drank wine straight out of the bottle were winos.

Doris smiled. The blonde was already really wound up. This could be fun. The sixty-two year old waitress who, unbeknownst to her customers, had a strong sense of the romantic and a wicked sense of humor, presented the bottle against a folded rag she was using to wipe the tables. “It’s a very fine…month,” she offered.

Lena laughed when the woman poured a half-inch of the liquid into the glasses emblazoned Rooty’s for a Rootin’ Tootin’ Good Time! The woman waited formally for Stef to drink. Stef - whose humor was finally reignited, laughed as well and she swished the wine around in her mouth. “I taste….something that vaguely reminds me of fruit and…rubber.” She paused, tilted her head, then nodded. “Yep. Fruit and rubber. Possibly a banana wrapped in a condom.”

“Stef,” Lena looked around the diner to see if anyone else had caught that.

Doris laughed the loud unbridled laugh of a hooker in church. She patted the woman on the back. “Enjoy honey,” she said.

Stef looked at the leftover greasy hamburgers on their plates and the lousy bottle of wine. “I’m sorry,” she told her partner honestly, the joking façade dropped for a moment. Three months ago, she had her fortieth birthday and Lena had gone through all kinds of contortions to make sure it was perfect. And it had been. Replete with the people she loved, food she adored, and party games that had the guests laughing non-stop. She was unbelievably frustrated that she couldn’t offer Lena the same.

Lena had smiled at each of Stef’s apologies she’d offered throughout the day, and now brought her fingers to her mouth to kiss them. “How is it your fault that the alternator died and then we had a flat tire?” she asked.

Stef shrugged helplessly. “It’s got to be someone’s fault – and it’s your birthday so we can’t blame you!” The romantic hotel room she had booked was still three hundred fifty miles away.

Lena laughed easily. “It’s okay honey. Really. I’m here. With you.”

“Yeah,” said Stef tenderly.

Their hands met and entwined with one another over the table. They spent the next thirty minutes sipping the terrible wine and making obnoxious comments.

The problems with the hotel room started when Stef had to jiggle the lock for thirty seconds before it released. When they opened the door, the light from the outside street lamp fell into the interior. A roach scurried into a corner, trying to cover itself in the darkness.

“Oh Stef,” Lena began, a look of revulsion on her face.

“I know honey. But it’s the only place that has room. Let’s just-” she threw the bedcover off the bed and was greeted with stained sheets. Stef dropped the sheets, a look of disgust on her face. “New plan,” she said, steering her partner out the door.

“We can’t sleep in the car, Stef,” protested Lena as Stef opened the car door and boosted her inside.

“Just a minute babe,” Stef said. She patted her pockets, making sure what she was needed was there, then strode to the office where the twenty-something night manager was watching television. “Hey!” she knocked sharply on the window.

The kid grunted and gave her a half-wave.

Stef knocked on the glass harder, “Hey!” she yelled.

The kid came over. Stef found him even less appealing then when she had seen him the first time. Greasy hair, rumpled clothes, and a sullen attitude. “What, lady?” he said, annoyed.

“Your room’s a shithole and your customer service sucks,” she said bluntly.

The kid rolled his eyes, “Listen lady…”

“No, you listen. I want fresh sheets. Do you have _any_ that are clean?” Stef demanded.

The kid made an annoying clicking sound with his tongue and sighed as if she were asking him to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’ll go check.”

Stef waited at the window, peering at her partner through the darkness. Lena gave her a little smile and waved.

After nearly ten minutes, the kid came back with an armful of sheets and smelling like smoke. Before he could try dumping them on her, Stef held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there, my friend. Those are not clean sheets, those are dirty sheets. Look, they still have stains on them!”

The kid dropped them on the floor, “They’re in our clean sheet cupboard,” he said aggrieved.

“Well, then whoever is doing your laundry is either blind or incompetent,” Stef snapped. “Look, me and my partner are not going to-,”

“What, you guys are dykes?” the kid sneered.

Stef took out her badge and slammed it against the window, nearly breaking the glass. “Look you little weasel. I’ve had a long day, and you are seriously pissing me off. Give us the cleanest room you have. I’m going to go to a – what stores do you have here that open late-?”

“K-K-Mart,” the kid mumbles, tongue-tied.

“I’m going to the K-Mart, which you are going to give precise directions to. You’re going to give us the room for half off, and you are going to do it with a damn smile on your face and polite words in your mouth, or I am going to find something to charge you with, you understand me?”

The kid’s face contorted into what he hoped was a smile. He hadn’t done it in awhile so the muscles stretched uncomfortably. “Y-yes officer.”

“Good boy,” Stef’s face, which had been nearly pressed into the glass, withdrew slightly.

The kid stammered out directions  as he gave her a new room key and Stef strode back to the car, the swagger in her walk unmistakable.

When she got into the car, she found Lena grinning at her. “That was really hot,” Lena said. “The way you intimidated that kid with your badge.”

Stef quirked an eyebrow at her, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like Wonder Woman coming out of the telephone booth or something,” Lena said, leaning in for a kiss.

Stef kissed her back, then managed to pull away long enough to say, “Wonder Woman didn’t use telephone booths, love, that was Superman. Wonder Woman had the golden lasso thing that she…”

“Whatever,” Lena shrugged and tried to move around the center console to crawl into Stef’s lap. The blaring horn startled both of them and they drew away reluctantly.

Stef started the car and chuckled. “Wonder Woman and telephone booths. You had such a deprived childhood.”

“My parents were strict about what I watched.” Lena defended herself. “I had to sneak around to watch Charlie’s Angels.”

“Who wouldn’t?” asked Stef with mock-seriousness.

“Uh-huh,” said Lena, eyes wide with playful earnestness, “When my mom caught me, I was grounded for a week, but I kept watching it anyway.”

“Such a rebel,” Stef said, holding Lena’s hand and stroking the palm with her thumb.

Lena looked around in confusion. “Babe, why are we back at the diner?”

“I’m gonna get some stuff. You get some tea…hot chocolate, whatever,” Stef said as she reached into the backseat. “Read your book and relax, okay?”

“Okay…” said Lena suspiciously.

Stef held her hand until they walked into the diner. “Hey Doris!!” yelled Stef at the counter. “We’re back!!”

“Stef,” Lena hissed.

“Hey there girls!” Doris yodeled back, “Why you back so soon?”

“Our room’s a shit hole and I need to park Lena somewhere for awhile,” Stef explained guilelessly, while Lena pinched her arm for being so loud and obnoxious.

“Of course, honey,” Said Doris, flinging a companionable arm across Lena’s shoulders. “You just sit over here for awhile.”

When Doris had seated Lena in a nearby booth, Stef drew her away slightly. “I didn’t say anything before, but it’s Lena’s birthday. Do you think you could-?”

“Don’t worry hon.,” Doris said reassuringly, “I’ll fix up something nice for your sweetie.”

Stef grinned, touched. “Thanks Doris.”

“No problem I-,” Doris began.

“Hey Doris!” yelled the short-order cook from the kitchen, in a thorough bad temper. “Ya think you could get your ass over here and pick up some of these damn orders?”

“Kiss this honey!” Doris yelled, slapping her ample behind.

Stef laughed nearly as raucously as Doris and Lena covered her face in embarrassment. The cook subsided, mumbling obscenities under his breath. The handful of diners chuckled. Entertainment and a show. Not bad for some rinky-dink diner.

“Everything will be fine,” continued Doris in a calm voice. “You go do what you need to.”

“Thanks,” said Stef, eager to enact her plans. She kissed the top of Lena’s head, and walked quickly out of the diner.

At the K-Mart, she bought candles, new sheets, a blanket, a mattress pad, scented soap, oil, cleaning supplies, several Roach motels, and an assortment of odds and ends. In true cop fashion, she broke some speed limits getting back to the hotel. She didn’t want to leave her lover for too long. She was irritated, but resigned to find that the new room was only slightly better than the old one. Luckily, no one could say Stef Foster was not determined. She bullied the kid manager into vacuuming the room while she wiped all the surface areas down with a disinfectant. She put the roach motels in all corners of the room. She stripped the bed, including the mattress pad. She was relieved to find the mattress itself didn’t look too bad. The sheets and comforter were thrown out the door, and she remade the bed with the sheets she had purchased.  Then with a grim look of determination, she went into the bathroom and proceeded to scrub it within an inch of it’s life. She was just finishing up the sink when she heard her phone ringing. Lena, of course.

“Where are you?” asked her partner. “You’ve been gone nearly two hours!” Unspoken of course, was that it was her birthday and she wanted to spend it with her lover.

“I’m almost done, love. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Stef promised fervently. She stripped and jumped into the shower, detesting how grungy she felt. She scrubbed the sweat and muck off her body, then slid into fresh clothing.

When she reached the diner, the small bell on the door announced her entrance. Lena’s eyes immediately met hers from across the room. Her smile was both sweet and eager. Stef went to the booth and kissed her chastely on the cheek, mindful that they were in an unfamiliar place. “Did you enjoy your book?” Stef asked gently.

Lena nodded, “It’s a good one. I think you’d like it too.”

“I’m sure I would,” said Stef, catching Doris’s eye.

Within moments the portly woman bustled over with her creation. Layers of chocolate chip cookies were pressed between alternating scoops of chocolate and vanilla ice cream like a seven layer cake. A tiny pink candle smothered in whip cream sat atop.

“Happy birthday, honey,” said Doris, taking a deep breath to start singing.

Stef shook her head wildly. Lena would be too embarrassed to be the center of attention to enjoy it. Doris let out her breath, and patted Lena on the head instead. “Enjoy,” she said as she began to leave.

Lena caught her hand, “This is so nice. Thank you!”

Doris grinned, patted her hand, then moved away. Stef put her arm around Lena, and put her lips close to her ear, “Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy Birthday, my love, Happy Birthday to you.”

Lena’s lips brushed her own with the faintest of kisses, then she leaned forward, and with a tiny puff, blew out the candle.

The cookies were still warm and melted in their mouths. The ice cream was plain but the creamy coldness contrasted delightfully with the cookies. Stef was tempted a hundred times, to kiss away a stray crumb, or lick a smear of ice cream off her lover’s cheek.

After they finished, they found Doris and offered sincere thanks. The tip they left was large and the older woman smiled with delight when she found it under a hand-written note.

When they reached the hotel, Stef made Lena wait outside as she darted into the room. Stef gently covered Lena’s eyes with her hands, and walked her through the hotel room’s door. When Stef uncovered her eyes, Lena looked around the room. “Stef,” she said gently.

The room was glowing with candles and rose petals were strewn across the silky sheets. A vase stood on top of the television, smothering the room in a soft floral scent. Stef took her partner’s hand, and gently began disrobing her as she walked her backwards to the bathroom, distracting her with fervent kisses. In the bathroom, the lights were off, and candles glow reflected off the mirror.

“How did you do this without setting off the fire alarm?” asked Lena in amazement, pulling away to breathe.

“I disabled it,” Stef admitted as she continued to kiss her.

“You – uh, you what?” Lena managed as Stef nipped her way down her neck.

“I disabled it, so don’t knock the candles over,” Stef grinned as she skimmed her hands down her partner’s back and let them trail slowly up her inner thighs. Lena shuddered and undressed Stef in a matter of seconds. They managed to maneuver one another into the shower while keeping in constant, nearly total, body contact. The water was lukewarm, but they made up for it.

After the shower, Stef wrapped Lena in a fluffy white towel and proceeded to massage her with oil until every part of her body was slick and shiny. When she reached the place where the warmth burned strongest, Stef let her fingers work the nerves there until Lena was trembling, over-stimulated, and nearly drunk with pleasure.

As the candles burned steadily into the night, Lena lay on her stomach while Stef traced patterns on her smooth skin. “This was amazing, Stef.”

“It was kinda crappy,” said Stef sheepishly, “I mean this hotel is-,”

Lena turned over to face her and put a slender finger over her lover’s lips. “You had to work doubly hard to make this beautiful. I loved it. Thank you.”

“Only the best for you, my love,” said Stef softly. “Always and forever.” She leaned forward to kiss her, and they melted into one another’s skin once more.

 

xoxoxoxoxo

 

Doris moved softly through her living room, avoiding the creaky floorboard and the habitually bad-tempered cat who was splayed across the rug. When she made it to her bedroom, she paused to gaze fondly at the salt-and-pepper head that inhabited it. She slipped off her clothes and slid into bed. A leg immediately entwined around hers and an arm flopped across her middle.

“Missed you,” said a hoarse, husky voice from the darkness.

“Missed you too,” said Doris with a sweet kiss.

“I hate when you work the night shift. I can’t sleep. When are you going to retire, you dingy broad?”

Doris grinned and kissed the long-fingered hand that had entwined with hers. “Not too long, sweetheart. I promise,” she snuggled into the covers. “Met a couple of girls tonight. Real sweet. Reminded me of us, ‘cept they were prettier and their tits were still perky.”

Lorrie poked her head from out of the covers, “What’re you doin’ lookin’ at other girls’ tits, if I may ask?”

“Just lookin’,” shrugged Doris. “Ain’t no harm in that, right?”

“Yeah?” her partner gave a snort and flopped back into the pillow. “Long as you’re just lookin’…or you share.”

Doris laughed that deep-throated laugh as she fell asleep.

 

 

 


	9. Grand Theft Auto

 

“Lena, may I please get this Matchbox? It’s only $1.99 and look! It’s red!” Brandon’s face was full of excitement.

Lena looked fondly at child she now thought of as her son. His brown hair was tousled and his blue eyes glowed with excitement. She looked at the packaged car he held tightly in his hands. She hesitated. It was only a couple of dollars, and it’s not like his room was stuffed with toys…then she remembered Stef, gently mocking her. “Spoiled, spoiled. You’re spoiling our son,” she had said in a sing-song. Lena made up her mind. “Not today, baby. You have a lot of Matchbox cars at home already.”

His face immediately fell and she was surprised at how that bothered her. “Okay,” he said heavily. He knew better than to argue with Lena. She always meant exactly what she said. He turned away so she couldn’t see the quick anger spasm across his face. It wasn’t like Lena was his real, _real_ mother. She couldn’t tell him what to do. Impulsively he stuffed the car in his pocket and turned to find her poking at her phone.

“Ready to go?” she smiled that beautiful smile at him as she held out her hand. He took it, immediately feeling a pang in his heart for his earlier, traitorous thoughts. How could he have thought that. He _loved_ his Lena. Mommy was so much happier since they found her. And Lena cooked yummy food, she listened to the pretty music that had no words, she was an excellent story-teller and she was the best at helping with homework. So many good things.

Brandon bit his lip. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Sorry for what, baby?” Lena sounded distracted as she pushed the cart with one hand to the cashier’s station.

He shrugged his shoulders, and nibbled on his thumbnail. The cashier ran all the items through the scanner in quick, economical motions. Brandon watched the red light as it took pictures of each item. He shifted uneasily. Could it find the Matchbox in his pocket? He breathed in relief as the total blinked and Lena paid for their groceries. This time he clung to the side of the cart as they headed for the doors. His heart beat faster, sure that someone was going to jump out and yell “That is a thief! Call the police!”

They passed through the doors without anything unusual happening. Brandon began to breath more easily. He was kind of surprised. Stealing was easy.

“You are such a strong boy,” Lena told him as he helped unload the groceries.

He smiled, for a moment feeling proud. He liked being able to help. Then he remembered the car in his pocket and his smile slid into a frown. “Want me to take the cart back?” he asked quietly.

“That would be a big help sweetie,” Lena praised him again.

After he had taken the cart back, he hopped into the backseat and slid the seatbelt around him. He watched Lena as she ticked of items on her to-do list. She was always making lists. “All right. I think we can go home!” she said with a smile.

Brandon nodded, smiling at her faintly at her from her rear-view mirror. “Okay,” he said.

“Brandon, are you feeling all right?” Lena’s voice had that quizzical, concerned tone that he knew well. It was a tone that showed caring and love. It made him feel worse.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, looking around the car for inspiration. He couldn’t spend the whole car ride answering questions. Lena would know there was something wrong for sure. “Can we listen to music?”

“May we please listen to music?” Lena corrected mildly as she started the car and began pulling out of the parking space.

“May we please listen to the music?” he repeated obediently, catching her eyes in the mirror.

“Certainly. Classical?” she teased gently. Brandon _loved_ listening to classical music with her. Actually, Stef was learning to enjoy it too. They were shy about asking for it though. Lena found it endearing.

His eyes lit up. “Yes, please,” he said. He was thankful the rest of the ride home was quiet. He helped Lena carry the groceries inside and as soon as she gave permission, he ran upstairs to his room where he closed the door. He pulled the car out of his pocket and tore off the wrapping. It was an awesome car. He pulled out the rest of the cars and matched them up. Just as he thought, this car was perfect for his collection. He began driving it around the room on a made-up road, making little car noises as he did so. The car was amazing, but his stomach was feeling funny. Kind of flip-floppy.

Lena puttered around the kitchen, getting the supplies out to make dinner. Luckily she enjoyed cooking. Stef was an enthusiastic  learner, but her experience was limited to simple, traditional fare. Lena loved to experiment in the kitchen. It suited her artistic tendencies. She was making what Brandon called “fancy tacos”, which was now one of his favorite. She realized he might actually want to help. She walked towards his bedroom.

“Vroom, vroom,” whispered Brandon a little sadly. He half-heartedly swooped the car across the carpeted road again. There was a light knocking at his door. “Just a minute, please,” he called politely. This was a new rule, since Lena had joined the family. “How can we expect him to respect our privacy if we don’t respect his,” she had said, giving her partner a meaningful glance one Saturday morning after Brandon tried to join them in the big bed when they were - cuddling. After that, the Foster-Adams household was a “knock and wait for permission” household. He swept the cars together and shoved them in a container under his bed. Then he grabbed a book from the bookshelf and opened it to the middle. “You can come in now,” he said.

“Hi sweetie,” Lena said. “Are you enjoying your book?” she asked, glancing down to look at the pages.

“Uh-huh,” Brandon nodded quickly, his heart doing a funny thumpy-thumping sound.

“Well, I’m making fancy tacos. Would you like to help me?”

Brandon was relieved. Now he could help his Lena and get away from the cars that had begun to make his tummy hurt. “Sure.”

“Go wash your hands then, and come downstairs,” Lena instructed gently.

She saw the back of his head nodding as he disappeared towards the bathroom. Lena saw a box poking out from under his bed and absently shoved it further under with her toes. That was strange, Brandon didn’t usually leave his toys under the bed. He was worried that monsters would steal them. She shrugged and went back downstairs.

 

xoxoxoxoxo

 

When Stef arrived that evening it was to an aromatic dinner and a happy partner. Brandon was a little quieter than usual but he gave her a small smile and a hug in greeting. Stef regaled them with a story of her day, high on humor and low on danger (at least that she’d admit to).When she tried to convince her family that it was a movie kind of night, she was surprised when Brandon said he was tired and felt like going to bed. She and Lena traded suspicious glances and reached for his forehead at the same time.

“I’m not sick,” Brandon batted their hands away grumpily. “I’m just tired.”

Stef frowned at his tone. “It sounds like you are. Go take your bath. We’ll check on you in a minute.”

Brandon’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded slowly. “‘Kay,” he plodded upstairs.

Stef turned to Lena, “Has he been like this all day?” she asked.

Lena shook her head. “A little quiet this afternoon,” she said.

“Huh.” Stef cocked her head towards the stairs. She felt Lena’s arms winding around her middle.

“So what aren’t you telling me about the police chase,” Lena asked knowingly from behind her.

Caught! Stef chuckled nervously, then spun to face her partner. “Do you really want to know?” she asked softly, rubbing her nose against her lover’s.

Lena gave her a searching glance, checking again for any injuries – physical or emotional, “No,” she said honestly.

Stef smiled. She was a little disappointed that Lena didn’t want to know more about what she did, but mostly she felt relieved. She knew it scared her partner to even think about the danger her job entailed. When she spoke of it to Lena, it became more frightening for her as well. She imagined leaving Lena, Brandon, and her heart would tighten in pain. She couldn’t function that way. She couldn’t do her job. So she shoved it down deep, where it wouldn’t bother anyone. “That’s what I thought,” she said, beginning to kiss her way down Lena’s throat.

Her lover made one of those noises that Stef so loved to hear and threaded her fingers through Stef’s hair.

“If Brandon’s going to bed early…,” Stef suggested.

Lena gave her a smile and brushed her hand against her cheek. “Sounds good.”

Stef busied herself cleaning up the kitchen. Lena did the lion’s share of the cooking so Stef tried to do most of the cleaning. Oftentimes, they would end up doing it together since it was the opportunity for some private adult time, as domestic as it was.

Lena padded upstairs, wanting to check on Brandon. She knocked gently on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” Brandon said.

She was surprised to find that there weren’t any bubbles in the tub. Brandon loved bubbles and they bought enough to keep him supplied every night. He was actually becoming a bit of a connoisseur. “Hey buddy, not a bubble night?” she asked, her concern growing.

He puttered with the rubber ducks in the water, not looking at her, “Nuh-uh,” he said.

“Have you done your hair yet?”

He made a face and shook his head.

“Would you like some help?”

Brandon seemed to ponder this for a moment, knowing “I don’t want to wash my hair tonight” wasn’t an option. “Okay,” he said grudgingly.

Lena squirted some of the shampoo in her hands and began running it through his hair. He didn’t like having his hair washed, but he loved having his scalp massaged. He tipped his head back and his little face relaxed. “Mmmmm.”

“You like that?”

He nodded and smiled a little.

“All right, you ready?” she asked.

He nodded, plugging his nose and scrunching up his face tightly, “Ready,” he said.

Lena tipped him backwards into the water and rinsed the soap out of his hair, taking care to make sure it was nowhere near his eyes. It was baby shampoo so it wasn’t supposed to sting, but he’d scream bloody murder in preemptive pain anyway. She sat him back up and watched as the water ran down his face in rivulets. Then she presented him with the washcloth.

Gravely, he wiped his face and handed it back to her, “Lena?” he asked

“Hmm?” She dipped the washcloth into the water and began smearing it with soap.

“Mommy was chasing a bad guy today.”

“Yes,” she began gently scrubbing his ears and back.

“He stolded something, right?” he squeezed the rubber duck rhythmically in his hands.

“Yes. Mommy said he stole a TV. He wasn’t very smart though, the TV was so big that everyone who walked by noticed,” Lena smiled as she said this. More often then not, Stef had some funny “Stupid Criminal” stories. Most people who committed crimes were not exactly subtle.

“He was bad,” Brandon’s voice was flat, and declamatory.

“Well, he certainly made some bad choices,” Lena agreed, running the washcloth over her son’s arms.

“He’ll go to jail now, won’t he?” Brandon’s blue eyes regarded her somberly.

“He could,” Lena said. His lip trembled and she hugged his shoulders. “Don’t be upset sweetheart. You have such a good, kind heart to worry about him, but he needs to accept the consequences of his actions.”

He nodded.

“Okay, put the ducks away and finish up,” she told him briskly, dropping the washcloth in his lap. “Which pajamas do you want?”

“Umm, the Superman ones,” he said predictably.

Lena grinned. “You’re lucky I washed them. I’ll get them. I want you to be done by the time I get back,” she stood and tried to fan her damp shirt dry as he nodded.

“Okay.”

Stef was just coming up the stairs when Lena exited the bathroom. “He okay?” she asked.

“He’s such a sensitive little boy. I think he’s feeling sorry for your incompetent thief,” Lena said.

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell anymore stories,” Stef said, glancing at the bathroom door.

Lena shrugged. “I think he’s okay now,” she assured her partner. “You can check-in with him before he goes to sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Brandon lay in the darkness of his room, the Matchbox car clutched in his hand. The kisses his mom and Lena gave him made his squirm with guilt. He was _bad_! What if his mom had to put him to jail? He imagined Lena’s sad face and his dad’s disappointed one. What could he do?

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The next morning was hurried. Stef had an early morning briefing so she was out the door, unknowingly waking Brandon when she kissed him good-bye. Lena also had a staff meeting, so she rushed around, gathering her notes and making breakfast.

Brandon watched her gravely, trying to burn a picture of her in his head. He lay in his bed that morning, feeling his mother’s kiss burning his cheek. He had made a decision. He didn’t deserve to live in this house. And he couldn’t bear to see his moms’ face when he admitted his crimes. He had to run away. He hid his school things under his bed and packed his backpack with what he would need. He asked Lena for extra snack in his lunch box and when she wasn’t looking, added more.

Lena looked up from her notes. “Brandon, sweetheart. Get a move on. You have to finish breakfast in five minutes.” Then she frowned at him. “Are you feeling all right?”

He nodded, making his lips smile. “Yeah. I just didn’t sleep well so I’m tired.” That at least wasn’t a lie. He had felt like he hadn’t slept at all.

Lena’s frown deepened. “Well, if you feel really tired, I want you to go to the nurse’s office and take a nap, you understand? You aren’t going to be able to learn much if you’re tired.”

Brandon made his head nod, smile still plastered on his face. “Okay.”

Lena glanced at the clock, “Annnd, we need to go. “C’mon baby. You can eat one of your snacks if you’re still hungry.”

He had to go to morning daycare, which he didn’t usually like, but this time it would be perfect for his plan. The daycare people were suppose to send him to class and when Mrs. Waters asked, the other kids would say they saw him at school. Saying good-bye to Lena was hard. She gave him his usual good-bye kiss like it was a normal day. She was surprised when he held onto her a little longer.

“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” she asked as he buried his head in her shoulder.

Brandon desperately wanted to tell her everything, but instead he told her was fine and was going to play Legos.

Lena frowned as she looked at her son as he pulled out the Legos. “He’s kind of having a rough morning,” she told Allan, who was in charge of the early morning daycare, “He may need a nap or something.”

“Will do, Lena,” Allan said easily. “He’s always so good, we hardly even know he’s here!”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Sneaking away was pretty easy. He played quietly with the Legos until he a couple of kids got into a fight and Miss Casey was laying out a snack. Being outside when he was supposed to be at school was a little scary. When he reached the sidewalk, he followed a mother and her two children, remembering that his parents had told him if he was lost he should find a police officer or a woman with children. They were usually safest. He had decided that Australia was his destination. It was really far away and they had kangaroos.  And Koala bears.

He stopped at the park. There were a few toddlers playing in the sand while their mother’s clumped together like flowers. Brandon went to the big playground equipment and settled into one of the tunnels. He was hungry and he needed a snack.

The sun warmed the small space, making him drowsy. As his head began nodding he decided he could sleep a little. It would be a long journey to Australia.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

He was startled awake to the feeling of someone grabbing him. Before he could scream he registered his mother’s scent. “Mommy!” he said in relief and dismay.

Stef crushed Bandon to her, feeling his little heart beat hard against her chest.  “Brandon Michael Foster, what were you thinking?” she got out, wanting to simultaneously throttle and hold her child.

“I-I…”

“Me, and Lena and Daddy were out of our minds with worry! What on earth possessed you to leave school? Do you know what can happen to kids all by themselves? Did you know the danger you were in? What have we told you about…”

Stef was overcome again as she shook his shoulders sharply then dragged him to her again.

Brandon burst into tears. He tried to sob out an explanation but Stef didn’t understand anything.

“Okay, okay,” she rubbed his back soothingly. She used her walkie to call off the search, then promptly used her cell to call Lena.  “I’ve got him sweetheart. I have him,” she assured her lover.

Lena began pouring her own set of exclamations when the walkie squawked again. “Stef, you found him?” Mike’s voice was full of tremulous relief.

“Yeah,” Stef’s felt her son’s little arms loop more tightly around her neck. “I got him.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxo

 

They ended up meeting Lena and Mike back at the house. After kissing and hugging their son, they sat in the living room, Lena and Stef on either side of him, and Mike sitting on an ottoman in front of him. Quietly and with interspersed sniffing, Brandon admitted his crime, then immediately covered his eyes. His mom pulled him onto her lap and Lena drew his hands away from his eyes. His father patted him his leg.

“I can see why you felt bad,” his dad started. “It’s not okay to steal, and you know that because you’re a good kid.”

Brandon shook his head. “Bad,” he whispered.

His mom hugged him tightly. “Stealing was bad, buddy. You aren’t.”

He looked at Lena, relieved when she nodded as well. “You definitely made some bad choices in the last twenty-four hours sweetheart, but that does not make you a bad person.”

His mom drew his chin up to look at her. “You shouldn’t have stolen a car, just because you wanted it. And you shouldn’t have run away, just because you didn’t know what to do about it.”

Brandon tried to drop his head, but his mother held his chin firmly. “You scared me and Daddy and Lena very much when we couldn’t find you. We had all of our friends looking for you. The teachers at the school were looking for you. Something scary could have happened.”

“There’s bad people around us Brandon,” his dad said, and Brandon reluctantly turned to face him. “You’re just a little guy. What if they grabbed you and took you away or hurt you?”

“Sorry,” Brandon whispered.

His parents shook their heads, lips compressed. “Sorry is a good start, Brandon,” Stef began, “But that’s not enough. We need to know that you are never, ever going to do either of these things again.”

Brandon looked towards Lena pleadingly. “I think the grown-ups need to talk for a little while,” she told him. “Go to your room, please.”

He started to go but was relieved when he received a kiss from each of them. Even if their kisses seemed a little mad right now.

When he reached his room, Brandon pulled the cars from under his bed and took out the stolen car. He looked at it gravely. “I don’t think you were worth it,” he told the car.

He definitely found this statement to be true thirty minutes later when he was called back down to face his parents. There seemed to be the aftermath of…something in the air. Brandon almost turned to go back upstairs when he felt the heaviness in the air, but Lena grabbed his hand and led him back to the couch. Big trouble meant big punishment and after hearing the restrictions as well as the individual lectures, Brandon was pretty sure he’d never to anything bad ever again.

When Daddy had left, Brandon leaned on his mom’s leg until she picked him up. “You guys still love me, right?” he asked anxiously, although he’d been reassured several times already.

Stef rolled her eyes, “My dear, sweet, knucklehead. Nothing you could ever do would make me or Lena or Daddy ever not love you,” she said firmly.

He cuddled into her neck, and felt Lena kiss his head. It was good to be home.


	10. The Sweetness of Memory

Stef was starting to get the uneasy feeling that she should be moving faster in the romance department. It had been their third, no fourth…wait fifth date that ended in a lot of kissing and…touching. The look  Lena had given her the night before last had sent all sorts of electricity running through her body. It had been exciting yet unsettling to realize how sexual Lena made her feel. In her years of boyfriends, even married to Mike, Stef had thought something was wrong with her. She’d had sex, even enjoyed it at times but comparing it to the electrical feel of Lena’s fingers on her body couldn’t even be quantified. It was almost embarrassing how much her body reacted to Lena’s voice…her scent. Was this normal, or was she just abnormal in another direction?

“Hey Foster!” her partner trotted up, holding a couple of cups.

“What?” she asked, automatically reaching to take the coffee from his hand.

“What were you thinking about? You had a real, strange look in your eyes,” he said a trifle to innocently.

Stef shook herself hard. She wasn’t going to be embarrassed by some practically-a-rookie-cop. “I was thinking about how you thought that barista back there was a hooker and how much the guys would like hearing about it,” she smirked.

Wilson lost his grin immediately. “Aw, c’mon Stef. You can’t blame me for that. Look at what she was wearing!”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously, it was practically see through!” he blustered.

She took a sip of coffee and continued to stare at him.

“Please don’t tell the guys.” It wasn’t a whine but it was damn close.

Stef smiled in superiority. Round 1,287 to Stef Foster.  “I’ll think about it,” she said. For the rest of the time she determinedly kept her mind on her work.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Dressed in her civvies, she rounded the innocent looking bookstore. She circled three times in her car before she realized she looked ridiculous so she found a spot to park. She sat in the car, then took a breath and headed for the bookstore. She walked without stopping into the store that sported a rainbow flag in the window. As soon as she walked into the store, she wheeled to the left, hoping that if she looked like she knew where she was going, she would be unnoticed. No such luck.

“Hi! Can I help you find something today?” chirped a cheerful brunette.

Stef willed herself not to stammer. “No thanks. I’m just looking.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything. Just give me a holler, ‘kay?” the bubbly woman made her way to the back of the store.

“’Kay,” said Stef somewhat forlornly. She had veered into the magazine section featuring mainly…gay porn. Stef, frankly, was a little shocked. She hadn’t realized there was that much gay porn in the world. Bears? She moved closer, fascinated despite herself.

“Excuse me,” a young man of, maybe twenty reached past her to grab a magazine. He gave her a conspiratorial type of grin.

Stef drew her hand back like it was burned, hoping her face wasn’t red. Lesbian. She needed to find the lesbian section. Because that’s what she was. A lesbian. Shit that felt as weird and as familiar as the first time she said it. She dared to lift her head to look around the store a little more thoroughly. She was a cop for G-d sakes. Shouldn’t she be a little more observant? She spotted the right section, making her way past some bumper stickers and magnets. There were a lot of books. Books about coming out. Books about the history of gays and lesbians. Intrigued, she began opening the books and paging through them. Her whole discovery of who she was had been intensely private and relatively sheltered. She hadn’t wanted to know about other women’s experiences, she was too busy focusing on her own feelings. Her throat tightened a little when she saw some nineteenth century pictures of couples who were clearly in love. It was hard enough now, how would have been a hundred years ago? She paged through the book some more, then looked at her watch. Reluctantly, she put the book back. It was interesting but it wasn’t why she was here. She edged closer to the sex section. She couldn’t resist a furtive glance around her as she picked up The Joy of Lesbian Sex. That seemed like a pretty straightforward title. Her cheeks reddened a little as she realized how graphic the pictures were. She looked around again, relieved that she was relatively alone. She put down that book and picked up another. Then another. By the time she had put the fourth one down, her mind was whirling. That was…that was a lot of information. The thought of doing – any – of those things with Lena left her a little breathless.

She picked up the first book, weighing the idea of actually purchasing it. She looked at the baby-faced cashier, then the book again. She just couldn’t do it. Stef bit her lip and seriously considered stealing the book. It was just one book. It wouldn’t be that bad, right? Reason overcame her. She was a cop. She sighed and put the book back. Brow slightly furrowed she left the store and walked back to her car.

Stef felt more overwhelmed then before. Now there were all these possibilities she had not known before. What should she do? What would Lena like best? She stopped midway before turning the key in the ignition. What all had Lena done before? “Shit,” Stef groaned unhappily. She needed to do more research.

For the next couple nights, Stef poured over her computer, putting in various phrases she had learned from the books in her search engine. She was thankful that she had the computer to herself. She went to site after site, reading avidly but resisting the urge to take notes. One night, she was reading one section and she looked at her fingers and wriggled them experimentally. A red flush of lust shot through her body when she thought of doing that to Lena.

Stef looked around as her heart beat wildly. Good G-d was that normal? She was practically dizzy with need. She took a deep breath. That was enough for tonight. She turned of the computer and went to take a shower.

The next night, Stef followed a link only to find she was at an adult toy store. It was both tantalizing and terrifying. Did Lena have any of these toys? Would she want to use them their first night? How did you put that one on? Was that one even safe? Stef clicked one tentatively, trying to see it from all angles. She was seriously worried now. What if Lena wanted to use one of these things? She was going to look completely stupid if she didn’t know how to use the damn thing. Dispiritedly she clicked off the computer and went to her room. She lay on the bed, gazing at the shadows on the ceiling. She turned to look at the clock beside her bed. It was only 10:30. She would probably still be up. Stef found Lena’s number on her phone and pressed it.

“Hi,” the voice was warm with surprise and pleasure.

“Hi,” Stef sank back into her pillows. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. How was your day?”

“Good,” Stef adjusted the pillows until she was comfortable and leaned back again. “I missed you,” she said into the silence. “I mean, that’s why I called. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Lena chuckled. “Wow, mushy already. I did choose the right woman.”

Stef felt herself melt a little.  “Yeah. I…Yeah.”

Lena laughed again. “When am I going to see you again?”

Stef plucked at her shirt nervously. It was now or never. “Um. Friday maybe? Brandon’s going to stay overnight with his dad and I thought…I thought…” she trailed off, feeling stupid.

“That would be really nice,” said Lena quietly.

Stef breathed deeply, excited and nervous at the same time.

“Do you want to have dinner at my house or yours…or maybe go out..” asked Lena leadingly, trying to get  a better grasp on their plans.

Stef felt herself go blank for a minute. Would it be better at her place? It was her home turf. But what if Lena wanted to use the equipment. She had no equipment! All she had was scented oil and lube.

Sensing her turmoil, Lena interjected softly, “I’d really love to cook for you again. I have a new recipe I wanted to try, and I just stocked up.”

Was she being nice? Did that phrase have a double meaning? Stef felt a headache beginning to form. Overthinking. She was overthinking way too much. “Sure, I’d love that. I’ll bring wine. Any preference?”

“A Chardonnay would go great with the food.”

“Okay,” Stef nodded even though she knew Lena couldn’t see her. “I’ll get that.”

Lena’s yawn broke the comfortable silence. “I had better get to bed. I have a staff meeting tomorrow. Good night Stef.”

“Good night Lena. I love you.” Although it wasn’t the first time she said these words, the thrill of saying them hadn’t diminished.

“I love you too Stef.” There was another pause and Stef was about to say goodnight again, when she heard Lena speak. “Oh, and Stef-“

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry about bringing pajamas.” The phone clicked off to the sound of her girlfriend’s sweet laughter.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

If Wilson had been a braver man, he would have ribbed Stef for her moodiness on Friday. She alternated between giddiness and snapping his head off. Knowing that she would probably eviscerate him, he refrained from asking if it was that time of the month. He had sisters, he wasn’t stupid.

Stef knew she was kind of acting like a maniac but she couldn’t help it. Thinking of Lena had become too distracting so she started making lists in her head instead. That helped for awhile but when the lists started being about Lena, she gave up. She was incredibly happy when the day was over.

When she got home she showered assiduously, taking the time to rub sweet smelling amber on her wrists and after a pause of thoughtful contemplation, her neck. Paused again, and put some on her inner thighs. Slutty or sexy? It was academic now. She chose her outfit with care, put on a little make-up, then brushed her hair until it fell like soft gold over her shoulders.

Tentatively, she stuck the oil in her purse, hoping that Lena didn’t have an allergy or something. She wished she had asked but it was really hard to fit that question into causal conversation.

She relaxed a little when she reached Lena’s house. This at lest, was familiar. She put her stuff on the same hook she always did, and kissed Lena in greeting, as she always did. Neither of them remarked that this kiss lasted longer than most and the little frisson of energy that sparked between them burned steadily.

“Can I help with anything?” asked Stef, following Lena to the kitchen after they had exchanged compliments.

“Sure. I could use some help with chopping,” said Lena, taking a moment to stir a bubbling pot.

Stef found the knife in it’s familiar spot and began chopping the onions, green peppers, and slivers of mushrooms. They made small talk. Stef tried to insert her usual humor but it felt a little manic so she stopped. Lena took a moment to rub her shoulders comfortingly, and Stef relaxed a bit more, recalling a funny story from when she was a rookie cop and ended up chasing a drunken frat boy across a roof. Lena laughed and rolled her eyes in all the right places. Even with the smell of the food, Stef could smell the light perfume Lena had dabbed on. She longed to get closer and breath a lungful of it, but she restrained herself.

When they sat down to eat, the candlelight flickered pleasantly. Lena approved of the wine, of which Stef was ridiculously pleased, and the meal was up to Lena’s usual standards of perfection.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” asked Lena, when the supper was done and they had cleaned up, swinging the dishrag casually in one hand.

“Sure. Got any horror flicks?” she asked teasingly. Lena hated horror movies, pretty much any horror movies but sometimes could be coaxed into watching some of the older Hitchcockian types.

Lena gave her a playful shove. “Uh-huh. They’re next to the Die Hard Trilogy, behind the Adam Sandler movies.”

Stef grinned back, “You’re such a movie snob.”

“It’s called taste, sweetheart.”

Warmth flushed through Stef’s body. It wasn’t the first time Lena had used an endearment, but she tended to use them more sparingly and it always made Stef’s heart clench a little when she used them. “You’re loss,” she said, trying to sound casual.

They settled on Lena’s spotless red leather couch, a far cry from Stef’s ugly, brown, kid-stained, pleather monstrosity. Stef was the first to put her arm around Lena but Lena was the one that snuggled into her. Stef spent enough time watching Lena that she lost some of the plot line in the movie. It was one of those ridiculously complicated movies Lena liked so much but whenever she joked about it being to much for her, Lena would give her a lecture about how she was smarter then she pretended to be.

Stef decided there wasn’t any light that Lena did not look good in. The woman was a goddess in earthly form. Truly. Stef used one finger to trail down Lena’s forearm. Lena was absolutely adamant about using lotion every night. When Stef had asked her about it she had rolled her eyes and muttered something about mothers. Stef made a mental note to write Mrs. Adams a thank you note as she continued the move her finger up and down her lover’s arm. Lena must not have been as into the movie as she looked because her eyes flickered momentarily to the side and she let out a breath. The light was low so they both felt pretty comfortable letting their hands roam first over their clothing, then under.

Stef was impressed, as usual, when Lena managed to unsnap her bra using only one hand. “You’ve got to show me how to do that,” she said enviously.

“The same way you get to Carnegie Hall,” said Lena with a wicked smirk.

Hmmm. This might actually be a good time to – “How many women have you slept with,” Stef blurted out before her brain had a chance to choke her nerve.

Lena leaned back a little, but continued to let her hands roam softly. “A few.”

“But, how many is-”

Lena stopped her by placing a single finger across her lips. “It doesn’t matter how many women I’ve been with. It doesn’t matter who you’ve been with. We’re here. Right now. In this moment. The first time with someone, is still the first time.”

Stef stared at Lena’s dark, brown eyes, trying to read everything within them. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“Okay,” Lena nodded and leaned in to kiss her deeply.

This was familiar and frankly, one of Stef’s favorite activities, so the kiss went on a long time - only to lead to more kisses. Stef let her forehead rest on Lena’s for a moment, breathing hard from exertion and the force of her desire. “You’re the first woman I’ve been with,” she whispered her fear. “I want it to be good for you. I don’t want it to be awkward.”  
Lena stroked her face, her voice intensifying without getting louder. “Don’t be embarrassed Stef. Don’t let that take away from this. Just relax. I’ll tell you what I like. You tell me what you like. Think of it as…taking on a new partner. You’ve got to get to know each other before you find a rhythm.”

Stef laughed a little, most of her tension leeching from her body. “Yeah. Okay. I get it. No need to resort to cop talk. Next thing you’ll be telling me we have a 10-66 or something.”

Lena’s smile was full of promise as she grabbed Stef’s hand and began leading her to the bedroom, letting loose clothing fall carelessly to the floor. By the time they reached the bed, she was nearly naked and so was Stef. Stef shivered a little, either from the breeze through the open window Lena insisted on at night, or fear. Lena moved closer, then pushed her gently to a seated position on the bed. Then she straddled one of Stef’s legs, and continued to kiss her, rubbing herself leisurely on Stef’s thigh. Stef let her hands get lost in Lena’s hair as she responded. Lena pushed her down, until she lay on her back. Lena rested on her side, letting her fingers trail lightly across Stef’s bare stomach. Stef shivered again when those fingers traveled down to her inner thighs, then brushed lightly against the apex. Stef let out a breathy moan and reached for Lena. Lena let herself be held momentarily, but then went back to her sweet torment. By the time Lena lay over her, Stef was crazy with want. When she tried to touch Lena in return, she was repeatedly distracted by those wandering, delightful fingers. When Lena finally touched her where she needed her most, Stef was unable to restrain a sigh of pleasure and fulfillment.

By the end of the night, Stef had lost any embarrassment and hesitancy. Amidst some giggles and occasional gracelessness, they had discovered several new intriguing things about one another. Lena promised that there would be many new discoveries.

As Lena breathed deeply in slumber, Stef let her hands run across her skin, skimming over love marks and sweat covered skin to gently roll her thumb over the Lena’s breast. Lena shifted in her sleep, wrapping herself more tightly around her lover. Stef kissed her forehead, then let her lips ghost slightly across Lena’s in sweet satisfaction.

 


	11. It's a Boy - and a Girl!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be an interlude but developed into more. And it ended up being another first-time story. Who knew? I might have been channeling my own exasperation with the foster care rules and regulations here. Maybe. A little.

Stef walked slowly into the living room, a frown puckering her face. She watched fondly as Lena leaned over Brandon to correct something in his homework.

Lena spotted her watching as she straightened. "Hi Stef," she said warmly.

"Hi Mommy!" Brandon slipped from the chair to give her a hug. Stef leaned down to pick him up, setting a kiss on his cheek. "Hey buddy."

He wiggled down and went back to his homework. "Gotta finish," he informed her seriously. "Mrs. Brady is a real  _stickler_  for homework being done neatly and on time." Something he had informed her and Lena of every time his homework time was interrupted. Stickler was new though. It was such a  _Lena_  word that Stef had to grin. "Better get back to it then."

She walked over to Lena to give her a lingering kiss. "Hi hon."

Lena cupped her face gently. "What's wrong?" she asked, low enough so Brandon couldn't hear.

"Nothing big," said Stef slowly. "Just something I want to talk about. After Brandon goes to bed."

"Okay." Lena caressed her face again, "You're sure you're all right?"

Stef took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "I'm fine," she assured her. "Let me get changed and I'll help with dinner."

xoxoxoxoxoxxo

They sat on the porch swing, sipping a delicate Merlot. The stars were out and a small breeze made the bushes dance. The faint sounds of music from the Hansen's down the street was a counterpoint to the insect noise. Lena lifted her feet onto Stef's lap, laughing when Stef drew her fingers down to tickle the edges of her foot. When Lena went to pull them away, Stef grabbed them again and began a steady massage.

"I saw a couple of kids today," began Stef carefully.

Lena raised an eyebrow. Stef didn't talk about her work much. Part of it was because it made Lena nervous, but the other part was that she didn't want to bring it home with her. "Mm-hmm?" Lena kept her voice noncommittal.

"They were foster kids. Twins. A boy and a girl. Their foster parents left them at the station because they couldn't take care of them anymore," there was grief in Stef's voice.

Lena reached out to take Stef's other hand, lending her warmth and strength.

"I gave them some candy. The boy took it…but the little girl…she was to shy to even take it from my hand," Stef paused a minute. "I guess she shouldn't be taking candy from strangers anyway. Probably safer."

Her partner saw right through the joke. "You like them."

Stef shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know them," she tried.

Lena removed her feet from Stef's lap and pressed into her side. "You like them and you're worried about them."

Stef looked at her, hazel eyes shining. "I like them and I  _am_  worried about them."

"We're almost through the foster care approval process," Lena reminded her gently. "We just need the home visit then the last, few requirements. We've been background checked, taken the classes, completed the ridiculous, can't-fail on-line test."

"I don't know the kids's backgrounds," said Stef. "They're older then we talked about. They're only a year or so younger than Brandon. I don't know if they're physically aggressive or sexually abused. I don't know if they're drug or alcohol babies."

"But you still like them."

"Yes, dammit! I do like them but I don't know if they're dangerous to Brandon. Or to us for that matter," Stef's voice broke a little. "I like them a lot but if there's even the slightest chance that they could hurt Brandon…I can't do that. I can't let my baby be hurt. As much as I might want to help those kids…that's asking too much," her eyes searched Lena's.

"Of course it is," Lena's voice was calm. "We can't risk Brandon's safety." Something about those kids had gotten to Stef. Really gotten to her. Lena wasn't even sure if Stef knew what it was. "Let's push the rest of the approval process, then we can ask about the kids. You know DCFS won't share anything with us until we're approved and actually ready to take on kids. Then, we ask the right questions, and figure out whether or not we can take these kids."

Stef nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do that." She was relaxing more as she talked with her partner.

Lena lay her head on Stef's chest. "You have a good heart Stefanie Foster," she said softly.

"Found you didn't I?" Stef kissed the top of her head. They sat quietly, the darkness providing peace in it's inky depths. "Jesús and Mariana," Stef said after minutes of silence.

"Hmm?" asked Lena.

"Their names are Jesús and Mariana."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The home visit, like the questionnaire was invasive and unpleasant, even though the social worker was an extremely nice woman who complimented them on their choice of wall-paint and coffee.

"Clearly you have the space - and both of you have already passed numerous checks due to your jobs. Here's a checklist you'll need to complete before the final home visit. Then, we'll look at finding you some kids!" her grin was large and cheerful and she tapped the papers to make a neat pile. "I see that you've marked that you do not want to take in teenagers, children with physical aggression, or who act out sexually."

"Yes, that's right. For our son's safety," the woman hadn't sounded judgmental at all, but still Stef felt like she had to justify herself.

"Of course," Teresa smiled at her. "You marked that you would be willing to take children with disabilities, but with conditions?" she looked at them inquiringly.

"Yes," said Lena, who's school experience had led her to mark that particular section with that note. "Stef and I both have full-time jobs and we don't think we'd be up to a child with severe physical disabilities. Obviously, children with a behavior disability fall into our restrictions about children with physical aggression."

"What about the ones that self-harm?" asked Teresa.

Both women shook their heads, "No," Stef answered for them. "We can't have that around Brandon. It would frighten him."

"We're willing to take children with learning or attention problems, but that's pretty much the extent. For now at least," Lena finished.

"We do feel that we could also be a good fit with gay and lesbian children, as well as those that identify as transgender," said Stef quietly.

"Yes, I see that you've marked that," Teresa's smile was kind. "To be honest, that's more of a concern with people taking in teens, but we'll keep that in mind."

Stef cleared her throat and looked at Lena. Lena nodded back. "We would also like to know what the process is for fostering specific children."

Teresa's eyes sharpened, "Are there children of family, or family friends you were looking to take in?" she asked. "You didn't mention that in our previous discussions."

Stef shook her head. "No. A month ago, there were two children in my police station. Their foster parents had left them there. They looked-," she looked at Lena again, "They looked like a good match."

Teresa nodded slowly. "If you give me their names, I can get in touch with their social worker, and see what their situation is. But if they're already in a home where they're comfortable-" she warned.

"We know," said Lena. "Believe me, we have no desire to uproot them if they're in - if they're happy." She had started to say "a good place" but realized quickly that could sound insulting.

Teresa nodded, placing the papers back into folders. "Ok. I think I've got what I've needed, ladies. If you have any questions, please let me know."

Stef nodded while Lena said. "Thank you."

When the door closed behind the social worker, Lena leaned back into Stef. "Almost there," said Stef quietly.

"Almost," repeated Lena.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"We have to lock up vitamins?" Stef groaned. "Seriously? I don't think you could O.D. on these things if you tried," the threw a bottle into the box on the floor.

"Vitamins, any natural health supplements, aspirin, cold medicine…everything," Lena said, her voice muffled by the paper clenched between her teeth. "With an actual lock."

"I bought the fire extinguishers. There's one for the kitchen and one for the downstairs. I got some sturdy fire-escape rope ladders. We now have one for each upstairs bedroom," Stef said, removing another item from the cupboard and tossing it into the box. "Isn't the point of fostering versus orphanages supposed to be so the kids feel like they're part of the family? This makes me feel like a damn institution."

Lena sighed. She had been hearing versions of this for the past week as they ticked off each item on the checklist. "It's the government honey. That's just the way it is."

"Well, if they want people to become-" Stef's rant was broken by the buzz of her cell phone. "Teresa? Yes. Yes. They are?" Stef covered the phone slightly to talk to Lena. "Jesús and Mariana are at a foster home but it's a short-term placement. Teresa looked at their files and there are no red flags. She wants to know if we're still interested," her smile was bursting across her cheekbones.

"Tell her we're still interested," Lena said, squeezing her lover's arm fondly.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"I'm going to have a brother and a sister? On Friday?" Brandon seemed a little dazed.

"Yes," said Stef, looking a little tentative now that things were happening so fast. What were her parents going to say? Up till now, everything had been hypothetical.

Brandon looked thoughtful. "But I'm not going to have to share my room?" His mothers shook their heads. "Or my toys?" he tested.

"No Brandon, we aren't going to make you share your toys. It would be nice if you felt like sharing though," Lena said calmly, elbowing Stef. Knowing Brandon, there was no doubt he would share his things, he just didn't want to be forced into it.

He looked at them seriously. "And they won't hurt me? Or you guys?"

"No," Stef's voice was completely serious. "They won't. They're nice kids buddy. They've had some hard times and their Mommy can't take care of them anymore."

Brandon nodded. "I remember," he said. He nodded his head decisively, looking a lot like Stef. "Okay. I'm ready for them."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

They decided to get plain cheese pizza for dinner. That and macaroni and cheese was a staple of most kids' diets. Lena and Stef got a combination pizza for themselves.

The twins seemed even smaller then they had at the station. They each carried a duffle bag and a blanket was clenched tightly in Mariana's arms. Jesús had smiled when he had seen his room, and Mariana had dared to look up from her studious appraisal of the carpet.

Dinner was awkward, at best. Brandon couldn't seem to stop staring. Jesús would talk a mile a minute, then lapse into nervous silence. Mariana ate two bites of pizza, and drank none of her juice. When Stef asked her about it, she buried her face in Jesús's shoulder. "She doesn't like orange juice," he informed them. "She just didn't want to be a pain."

Lena crouched beside Mariana's chair. "Mariana," she spoke gently, not insisting that the child look at her. "It's okay. You don't have to be afraid about telling us things you like and don't like. All of us are like that."

"I hate Brussels sprouts," Brandon piped up. "And liver. And tomatoes. And onions. And…"

Stef raised her hand in a "stop" gesture. "We don't need a list right now, kiddo."

Brandon subsided immediately. Mariana didn't look up, but she turned her head enough to eye Lena doubtfully. "I promise," Lena assured her with a smile.

They decided watching a Disney movie would be innocuous enough, although after looking through their collection, Stef realized how many of them revolved around children or creatures with a missing parent. Dumbo, Bambi, Cinderella, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. In desperation, she pulled out Beauty and the Beast. Belle didn't have a mom, but she wasn't going to sing or talk about it. Both Brandon and Jesús made a bit of a face, but were satisfied by the Beast's ferociousness and the antics of the dinnerware. Mariana was entranced. By the time the heard the chorus to each song, her little voice could be heard, singing along. Nobody remarked on this, sensing that it would break the mood, but Lena looked over the tops of the children's heads to smile at her partner. She laughed aloud when Stef started a mini-popcorn fight with the boys, making them both giggle in response. At the end of the movie, Mariana's hands were clasped together and her eyes were shining.

"Did you like the movie Mariana?" Stef asked gently.

" _Ah, sí_ , yes," she corrected herself. " _De nuevo_?" she looked at Lena, then Stef beseechingly.

Jesús shoved her with his elbow, looking anxious. "Speak English," he said sternly. "They don't like it when you speak Spanish."

Mariana wilted immediately, trying to fade back into the couch cushions. Stef touched Jesús's hand. "It's okay for you to speak Spanish here," she said, "Just as long as nobody gets left out." She turned her gaze to Marianna, " _Entiendas_?"

No smile now, but the little girl nodded. "I can speak Spanish," Brandon burst out, anxious to quell the sudden pressure in the room. " _Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco_  –"

Lena kissed his head to make him stop. "Yes you can sweetie. Her eyes settled on the twins. "In this house we believe that speaking two languages is a wonderful gift. I would really love it if you could teach me." Mariana continued to eye her. "For instance, I would love to know how to say 'good night'," coaxed Lena.

"B-," Brandon started. Stef covered his mouth.

Lena continued to look at Mariana. Jesús looked quietly between them, sensing something as well. Mariana broke her gaze with Lena to look at her brother, then went back to Lena. " _Buenas noches_ ," she whispered finally.

Stef watched the sweet smile break over Lena's face. A small one appeared on Mariana's face too. "Well, unfortunately I think we are going to have to say  _buenas noches_ ," she butchered the pronunciation to provoke giggles from Jesús and Mariana, "Because it is time for bed." She held her hand out to Mariana as Jesús hopped off the couch. She was grateful when she felt the small fingers enclosed in her own.

Brandon nestled into Stef momentarily, then followed them off the couch. "What about my story?" he asked.

Lena and Stef exchanged glances. Brandon was a creature of habit. Teeth, face, toilet, story, kisses. He got bent out of shape if it was disrupted. In fact…

_"Mommy? Mama? Are you awake?"_

_Stef sat up groggily, "It's 1:00 in the morning, Brandon. Why aren't you in bed?"_

_"I woke up and realized something was wrong," he continued to whisper._

_Stef felt her heart beginning to beat faster. Lena stirred beside her, "Wha-," she said sleepily._

_"What's wrong Brandon?" Stef asked, sitting up._

_"You didn't kiss me. Mama kissed me, but you didn't," said Brandon accusingly, moving until he was within arm-reach of his mother._

_"Yes I did," said Stef in exasperation. She heard Lena's throaty chuckle. "When I got home from my meeting tonight I kissed you. You were asleep."_

_"The kiss doesn't count if I'm asleep," Brandon sounded both outraged and aggrieved._

_Stef groaned and grabbed him by his pajama shirt to pull him closer and throw him into the middle of the bed. Lena turned on her side to face him as Stef peppered his face with kisses. "Fine. Next time I'll wake you up to kiss you."_

_Brandon giggled as Lena covered his face with kisses too. "'kay'," he snuggled into the comforter to sleep._

"I suppose we could read together in-," Stef began. She caught her son's frown and inwardly groaned. Maybe this was too much to expect. He wasn't told ahead of time he was going to have to share his story time. He was a good kid, but he wasn't a saint.

"How about-," Lena began.

Jesús interrupted after interpreting his sister's beseeching glance. "Can me and Mariana sleep together? It's a little scary when we're in a new place."

Stef and Lena exchanges glances again. There were a lot of rules about foster children, beds, and bedrooms. Luckily, since the twins were five and biological siblings, they would be okay. For now. "Sure," said Stef. "You might be a little squished though." The twins nodded happily.

"That makes it easier," said Lena lowly to her partner.

"Yeah. You want to take the twins? I'll take Brandon," offered Stef. She wanted to build the budding relationship between her partner and the little girl.

"Sure," Lena returned.

Stef passed the twins in the hall on her way to Brandon's room. "Did you guys brush your teeth? Backs and fronts? Use the toilet?" They were intimate questions to ask children who were virtual strangers. It felt peculiar.

The children nodded. "Uh-huh," said Jesús for both of them.

"All right." Stef looked at them. She touched their heads softly. "Good night." Then, " _buenas noches_."

Jesús giggled. Mariana smiled that tiny smile. " _Buenes noches_ ," said Jesús.


	12. Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids again. It's a bit short but I have another short one in mind that couldn't quite fit in this one. I'll try to have it out soon.

Tina, one of the office administrative assistance lurked in the doorway. Lena held up her hand, indicating that she would be another minute. "Mm-hmm. That's the right paperwork Mr. Lee. Fill that out, then send it to our office as soon as possible. Okay. Okay. Good-bye." Lena faced Tina with a weary smile. "One hundred twenty-four calls down, seventy-three more to go." It was only the second week into school and it felt like there were still a million things to do. Lena was starting to think she was going to develop a permanent crick in her neck.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Tina's voice and body language were apologetic, yet a tiny smile quirked at the corner of her mouth, "But your brood is in the office."

"My brood?" Lena repeated, fatigue and surprise making her response time slower then normal.

Tina nodded, then indicated the outer office with her head. Lena stepped from behind her desk to stand in the doorway. Brandon, Jesús, and Mariana sat in the office chairs, with varying looks of unease on their faces. Adriana Marks sat next to a boy… _Karl_ , Lena recalled, who was holding an icepack to his face. "What happened?" Lena asked.

"I'm not sure," Tina admitted. "Want me to send in Adriana?"

Lena massaged her forehead. "Yes, we had better do that," she said.

Tina walked over to Adriana, and bent to speak to her. Adriana nodded, giving a few last directions to Karl, then walked towards Lena.

Her children spotted her at that moment, and she narrowed her eyes when Brandon caught her stare. He immediately slumped in his seat, which caused the twins to look over as well. Mariana's eyes filled with tears and Jesús bit his lip. Okay. Someone had done something wrong.

Adriana gave her a small smile. "We had some trouble on the playground," she said, as Lena ushered her into her office.

"What happened?" asked Lena, leaning against her desk and balling her hands in her pockets.

"I was farther down the field, so I didn't really hear anything, but I did see what happened. Jesús was playing kickball. Karl, Thomas Edgar, and Antonio Benz came up. Karl said something and the other boys laughed. Then Jesús punched him."

Lena closed her eyes, "Jesús," she said quietly in exasperation.

"I was trying to get over to them, but Thomas took a couple of steps towards Jesús…and that's when Mariana threw her shoe at him."

"She what?" Mariana shied away from pretty much anything physical unless it was hugs.

"I know, I was surprised too!" Adriana refrained from smiling. Thomas's wide-eyed expression had been a little amusing. "She missed, by the way," she assured Lena. "She has terrible aim."

Lena took a breath, ready to hear all of it, "And Brandon?"

"He had no part in it. He was playing catch with Aiden. I think he came over when he heard me blowing my whistle. He followed us into the office and said it was imperative that he spoke to you." Adriana did let herself smile at this. Everyone on staff thought Brandon was a good kid.

"Okay," Lena sighed, wishing her irascible children had chosen another day to misbehave. Or never. That would have been nice.

"For what it's worth, I do thing Karl said something pretty rude. He won't admit to it, but Jesús is really angry about it. He wouldn't tell me, but he whispered it to Brandon, and got upset too."

"Thanks for taking care of it, Adriana," said Lena. She glanced quickly at the clock. "Oh my gosh, it's already five minutes into the next recess. You'd better get out there. Carol's out today, right?"

"Yes," Adriana nodded.

"I'll take over for now," said Lena. "Thanks again."

The older woman patted Lena's shoulder as she went out. Lena followed her. "Karl Bhaer," she said firmly. "Please come into my office."

Karl slithered out of his chair, exaggerating a wince and holding the cold pack conspicuously over his face. Lena refrained from rolling her eyes. It took five minutes and zero threats to get the story from him. She sent him back out into the office.

Tina met her at the door, "They seem really sorry," said the younger woman earnestly, gesturing to her children sympathetically.

Lena smiled faintly. Even though it was the twins first year at Anchor Beach, they were almost as well-known to the staff as Brandon. They had spent the last two weeks of the summer helping teachers set up their classrooms and helping the maintenance workers beautify the grounds. Lena and Stef had only been able to hire a baby-sitter for part of the time, they had spent quite a bit of money to send the kids to camps. It had been well worth it, but as a consequence, Lena had the kids with her every afternoon, after the meetings had been conducted. They had worried for nothing. The children had been amazingly well-behaved, polite, and helpful. Nearly everyone on staff had praised them, except for Mr. Timmons when he found Jesús trying to skateboard down the school's empty hallways. After a searing lecture and being forced to mop every hallway, that had not happened again. "I'll take care of it," she assured Tina. Lena gestured to them, and they filed over to her, looking as if they were marching to their own executions. "Go sit down," she told them firmly as they passed through her office door.

She closed the door and went to sit at her desk. She steepled her fingers and looked at them. Mariana was clutching Jesús's hand tightly. Lena had to curb her initial impulse to demand that Brandon tell her what was going on. He was such a dependable kid (and such a terrible liar), that she could always count on him to get the complete story, adding anything Karl had left out. However, after hearing from both Adriana and Karl, not to mention the side-eyes Brandon and Mariana were giving him, she knew that this was Jesús's story.

"Jesús," prompted Lena. "I need you to tell me what happened," she kept her voice calm, and free from accusation.

The little boy studied his right fist intently, where the slight scabbing indicate bruised knuckles. Mariana continued to hold his other hand. "Umm," he started, trying not to look at her.

"Jesús." This time she let a warning note enter her voice.

He squirmed and brought his eyes to meet hers. "I was at recess, playing kickball. A big kid asked me if it was true – that you were my mom."

Lena let herself inwardly hum pleasantly at the word. The twins had begun addressing Stef and her as "Mom" and "Mama", over the summer. The first time it had happened, she'd nearly broke into happy tears. Stef had been so delighted that her smile practically broke her cheekbones. "Yes," she prompted.

"I said yeah. And he said, 'oh, the dyke'. So I punched him in the face." There was no doubt about it, beneath the worry, there was definitely a note of pride.

"Those other boys were mean," Mariana's voice was high with tension. "They were being mean and saying bad things. He deserved it."

"What did the other boys do?" asked Lena, wondering if Mariana would admit her crime.

"The rest of them got out of there once I punched Karl," said Jesús, that faint note of pride still in his voice.

Brandon caught it, and Lena's narrowed gaze because he elbowed Jesús in the side, "Shut up," he muttered.

Jesús elbowed him back, not knowing his brother was trying to help, "You shut up."

"Boys," Lena's voice was quiet but caused the boys to cease immediately.

"I threw my shoe at Thomas," Mariana's voice was small and meek. "I didn't want him to hurt my brother."

Before Lena could respond to that, Jesús spoke. "I'm sorry, Mama," his rubbed his knuckles absent-mindedly. "I know I should have fought out of school, like Brandon, but I just couldn't let him get away with saying that."

"Fight like who?" said Lena doing a double take.

Brandon covered his eyes with both hands and slumped down into his chair, but not before sending a killing glare towards his brother. "You have the biggest mouth Jesús," he muttered.

Lena folded her hands on top of her desk and glared at her eldest. "Brandon?"

His hands slipped slowly away from his eyes. "Mama," he said in his best imitation of her calmest tone. "I never, ever fight at school. I know the rules."

"Brandon," she said in the same tone. "Are you trying to argue semantics with me?"

Brandon shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm trying to re-rea-," he frowned, face scrunched like his mother when thinking through a particularly difficult problem.

"Reassure me?" Lena said dryly, contemplating the beauty of nature and nurture. Her vocabulary, Stef's facial expressions.

"Yes," said Brandon happily.

Lena's quelling glare made him rethink his words. "No?" he said, trying to figure out the right answer.

Lena sighed, "You're fighting Brandon?"

"Only when they give me lip," he said, trying for some ill-timed humor.

"Brandon Foster." He shut his mouth with a distinct clicking sound.

Jesús looked between them, frustrated that he had said the wrong thing. Again. "It's my fault," he said, trying to diffuse the tension. "I didn't take a deep breath and count to three."

Lena felt an unwilling smile trying to work it's way onto her face. Well, at least he was _hearing_  the constant techniques they were trying to instill in him, even if they weren't coming out in his actions (and even though Stef thought they were the corniest things in the world). "I appreciate you taking responsibility." She paused to thin about her next words. "What those boys said was technically correct. I imagine that they way they said it though, was rude." Jesús nodded. "You know Mommy and I don't like that particular term, and you have the right to tell them that you do not like what they are saying or how they say it." Jesús was looking a little hopeful now, only to be crushed by her next words. "However, you should not have used your fists to do it."

Jesús wiggled his toes in his new red and black sneakers, wishing miserably that he could take his actions back. He felt Mariana's hand clench more tightly on his own, knowing the worry in her heart as clearly as if she had spoken it. "Sorry," he whispered.

Lena caught the anxious glances between them and sighed a little. "You made a mistake. And there will be some consequences, but we'll work it out."

His brown eyes met hers. "Really?"

"Yes," she said firmly, letting her gaze include Mariana.

Mariana sighed so deeply it was like a miniature tornado. "Jesús is a good boy," she said in that same small voice.

Lena let the smile break over her face. "I remember that sweetheart. I know that." She looked at Jesús, "He has a brave, kind heart."

Jesús smiled back, the gap in his mouth where he had lost a front tooth making it more endearing, "Yeah?"

"You both do," said Lena, getting up to give first Mariana, then Jesús a hug. Mariana wiggled in delight and Jesús looked pleased.

"And why are you here, young man?" asked Lena, towering a little over Brandon.

He looked at her, eyes earnest, "You and Mom keep saying I'm the older brother and it's my job to protect the twins. I was just looking after them."

Lena tousled his hair. "We still need to discuss the fighting," she muttered in his ear.

"Mom taught me to fight so I didn't get bullied," Brandon protested instantly. "But I always make sure I don't do it on school grounds."

Lena frowned. Stef had indeed taught Brandon to fight, specifically because she was worried her introverted, musical, sensitive boy would be bullied. But he shouldn't feel like he constantly had to defend them. None of her children should have to bear that responsibility. "Mommy and I will talk," she told him. Then she turned to her other son. "Jesús, we're going to bring Karl in here to resolve this. Then we'll deal with the consequences."

Jesús nodded bravely. "Okay," he said.

"Mariana?" The little girl turned her head inquisitively, "No throwing shoes." Mariana nodded vigorously.

"Brandon?" He scrunched his face in expectation. Lena sighed a little, "I'll talk to Mommy," she repeated. "But I like that you were looking after your brother and sister."

"Thanks," he said, a pleased smile touching his lips.

After she had written notes for her other children, and sent them back to class, Lena looked at Jesús from across her desk. He looked back at her. "Thank you for trying to defend Mommy and me," she said.

He gave her that scrunched up, adorable, gap-toothed grin again. "I love you," he said firmly, and then he ducked his head before she could catch his blush.

Lena's breath caught a little. He was incredibly chary with those particular words, as if uttering them would lessen or cheapen them. Or maybe just because in his experience, you could say "I love you," and still get left behind. "I love you too Jesús," she said softly. "Very, very much."

He shrugged a little, trying to play off his pleasure. "That's 'cause you're my mom. You have to love me," the realization of what he had said before he thought about it, caused some panic to rise in his eyes. Without meaning to, he caught hers in desperation.

Lena didn't hesitate. She went around the desk and pulled him into a tight hug. "That's right baby. You're our son. We have to love you."

Jesús smiled.


	13. B****

“I got some more news from Bill,” said Lena, as she scrubbed the vegetables a little too roughly near the kitchen sink.

“Yeah?” Stef couldn’t find it in herself to hope. Lena’s expression and her murderous rampage of the vegetables spoke of bad news.

“Ana’s going to rehab again. Says this time it’s going to work and she wants the twins back.”

“Right,” Stef rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she is. Four years since she lost the kids, two years they’ve been with us, but she’s going to be their mom. What a crock.”

Lena’s lips were compressed. “I cannot believe that woman,” her voice was low with fury. The kids were out of the house, or Stef knew she wouldn’t be venting like this. Out in the open. “She is so incredibly selfish. She knows she won’t be able to keep clean, but she’s not willing to give them up. They’re possessions to her. Money if she can clean up enough to get them back and live off of welfare.”

“I know,” Stef decided to forgo her anger for awhile to comfort her partner. Lena held herself with a certain rigidity but when she let go, it could be explosive. “It’s incredibly frustrating. It’s not right. At all. I know that. You know that. Bill knows that.” She winced as Lena began hacking at the vegetables. “Love?”

“What?” Lena’s tone was biting.

“Maybe you should let me make dinner tonight.”

Lena scoffed a little rudely but Stef was determined. She walked up behind Lena, wrapping her arms around her waist, and reaching up a little to lay her chin on her partner’s shoulder. She felt Lena shudder a little, then carefully lay down the knife. Stef smiled and kissed the back of her partner’s neck to reward her. “C’mere.” She led her over to the table and pulled her down onto her lap. This instantly gave her easy access.

Lena sighed and melted a little.  “Stef,” she said quietly.

“I know,” Stef wrapped her arms around her, rocking the slightest bit.

They sat there a moment, some of Lena’s anger leaching out. Stef, was repressing hers to vent at a later time. Probably with Mike. He was becoming an excellent listener. Their friendship had only grown stronger over the years, even though there were moments of awkwardness.

After about twenty minutes of this, interspersed with kissing and...okay - some touching…lots of touching - the women got up and resumed dinner preparations. That was the thing about being a mom. Your entire world could be falling apart but your kids still needed to eat. Still needed to be tucked in bed.

Brandon walked through the kitchen chewing what looked like an entire package of gum. “Hey moms,” he said breezily.

“Hi baby.”

“Hi Brandon.”

He frowned, sensing the latent tension in the room. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Stef smiled at him. “Long day.”

“Yeah?” he looked skeptically at Lena. “I heard you talking to Bill. Any more news about the adoption?”

Lena resisted the urge to slam the knife against the onion she was holding, feeling her anger reignite. She took a deep breath. “No,” she said simply.

“It’s been like…a year since you asked me,” said Brandon. “What’s taking so long?”

“There’s a lot of things that go into something like this, Brandon,” Stef said. “A lot of legal finagling. It’s complicated.”

“But it’s mostly their birth mom, right?” he asked, proving that he had probably been listening to conversations that he shouldn’t be privy to.

“She’s having a difficult time…” Stef started, trying to make it sound like she had sympathy for the woman.

The little boy rolled his eyes, sensing the insincerity in her tone and began to walk out of the kitchen, “What a bitch,” he muttered.

“Brandon!” said Lena

“Hold it right there, young man,” Stef commanded at the same time.

Brandon spun slowly on his heels, biting his lip. Oops. Hands on their hips, same glare on their faces…his moms looked a lot alike. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he said quickly, hoping that would help.

Stef’s ire was cooling quickly, mostly because she knew her partner was about to deliver death and destruction onto their kid “Oh buddy,” she said sadly. “That was a bad choice.” Lena loathed that particular word. Stef had once used it in front of her and Lena had let loose with a lecture that was eerily reminiscent of the talking to Stef had received when she was fifteen and had come home drunk. Her father met her at the door. All _he_ had done was shake his head. Then he moved aside and let Hurricane Sharon at her. It began with “Stefanie Marie Elkin” and ended with reminders that she had been nursed through three ear infections and that she once spent a year eating nothing by Macaroni and Cheese. Stef wasn’t sure what was said in between but she nodded and said “sorry” and “it won’t happen again” a lot. With a drunken slur, but the feelings were sincere. Her partner’s lecture lacked the biting reminders of childhood fallacies, but it included several new things, including the last sentence that was nearly spat at her. “Words _mean_ something Stef. They always do!”

“What did you just say?” demanded Lena, letting the knife and the vegetables rest on the cutting board.

“I said,” Brandon licked his lips, eyes darting to Stef’s. “I, um said the b-word.”

“No, you did not say ‘b-word’” said Lena firmly. “Look at your Mom and me and tell us what you actually said.”

Brandon closed his eyes, then opened them again. “I said ‘what a bitch’,” he whispered, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“And where did you hear that from?” Lena said, her gaze switching to her partner’s.

“Not me!” Stef protested instantly, her mind racing as she tried to remember if she had, in fact, uttered that particular profanity in front of her children. Man, if she did…Lena wasn’t blatant enough to make her sleep on the couch but this would guarantee several nights of a cold bed. Nobody did better “cold” then Lena did when she was fuming.

Lena switched her glare back to Brandon, “Where?” she repeated.

His eyes dropped, “I’ve heard it at school,” he mumbled.

Lena’s gaze narrowed. She was sure that he had heard it at school, and probably several other places, but there was something to the intonation that made her think that he had heard that profanity specifically used in conjunction with Ana. “I don’t think so. Tell me where you heard that word in relation with Ana.”

Brandon’s hands twisted nervously together. He sent another glance at his mom. She frowned back at him. _Had_ she said it in front of him? She reviewed past conversations again. Who else had she mentioned Ana too, besides Lena and the kids? The light clicked. “Was it your dad, Brandon?”

Brandon gnawed on his lower lip, then nodded reluctantly. Stef let out a breath, and then waved her outstretched hand at him to make him come forward. Moving like someone on the Bataan Death march, he inched his way towards them. Stef put both hands on his shoulders, and turned him so they both faced Lena. She took a deep breath, inwardly wincing. “I think some of this might be my fault,” she admitted.

A ripple of surprise crossed Lena’s face. “Pardon?” she asked.

“I think that maybe… _maybe_ …Brandon overheard Mike and me talking about Ana,” what she left out was that most of the time it became a bitch-fest on her part.

Lena gave her partner a significant look, then turned back to Brandon. “Regardless of where you heard it,” her voice was warning “or who said it,” she switched her glare back to Stef, “I don’t want you to use it again. Do you know what it means?”

Brandon nodded uncertainly. Was this a trick question? “It’s a bad word,” he said tentatively.

“It’s a derogative term for women,” Lena said. “It’s a way to demean women…make them less human.”

He frowned a little, “How can words do all that?” he asked honestly.

“Because of the way they make people feel after they’re said,” Lena explained. “But it’s especially bad because you’re calling Mariana and Jesús birth mom that word. How would you feel if someone said that about me? Or your mom?”

Brandon scowled immediately, “They wouldn’t say it twice ‘cause I’d have punched them in the face,” he declared,  fist balled up in anger.

“It especially bothers you, because it would be said about people you love. Mariana and Jesús  love their birth mom, even though she’s made some really bad choices.”

His frown deepened, for such a sensitive kid, he had no sympathy for Ana. He was too aware of the hurt he had caused his younger siblings. “But she-,” he protested.

“I know. She’s done a lot of things that are wrong and you don’t like what she’s done to Jesús and Mariana. But Brandon, they still have feelings about her. We don’t want to confuse them, or make them feel bad about it,” Lena touched his face lightly as she said this, hoping he was able to generalize this thought without her having to explain it.

“I get it,” said Brandon, nodding reluctantly.

“The word ‘bitch’ is not a nice word to hear. It’s not a nice word to _say_ ,” she emphasized. “A good man doesn’t need to demean women to be  man. He needs to treat them with respect. Do you  understand?”

“Most of it,” said Brandon.

“Do you understand enough to not say it again and go away so I can talk to your mom? We can answer your questions later,” Lena said. Stef groaned inwardly. That didn’t sound good.

“Uh-huh,” said Brandon, glad to be able to escape with a minimal lecture.

“Good boy.” He had barely left the room, when Lena spun back towards her partner.

Stef raised her hands in supplication, “Babe, I’m sorry. I just-”

Lena crowded intimately into her personal space. “Why are you talking to Mike about Ana? Are you saying something to him that you aren’t saying to me?”

“I-what?” Stef blinked in surprise. This isn’t where she thought the conversation was going.

“Seriously. What made you talk to him instead of me?” It wasn’t anger in Lena’s voice, it was hurt. Without meaning to, Stef broke into laughter. Sulky, possessive, jealous Lena hardly _ever_ came out. She was usually far too confident and above it all for that. Increasing her amusement, Lena shoved shoulder slightly. “Don’t laugh,” she commanded.

That only made Stef laugh harder. Lena was getting ready to spin out of the kitchen in a high dungeon, when Stef grabbed her and pulled her tight. “Oh, love. There’s nothing I share with Mike that I don’t share with you…except the station’s horrible coffee.”

Lena refused to be mollified. “You figured it out pretty fast. You must’ve been talking about it with him a lot.” She faced away from Stef so her features were shadowed by the play of kitchen lights.

Stef held her tightly, refusing to let go. “I wasn’t. Not really. I just…,” she hesitated.

Her partner turned slowly to face her, her eyes downcast and her beautiful mouth trembling slightly. “What?” she asked.

Stef felt the urge to laugh leave her completely. Lena may have been a little over sensitive sometimes but the combination of the Ana news and this was too much. Stef kissed the corner of her lips, then her nose, then full on her mouth. She felt Lena began to melt a little. She leaned back to break the kiss. “I just didn’t want to bring more…” she searched for a Lena-word, “Negativity into the house. We were both so upset and it felt like if I kept adding to it, it would make us both crazy. It had _nothing_ to do with hiding things from you or depending more on Mike. I _promise_ , honey.”

Lena had lowered her head a little during this speech, her hair falling gently over her elegant cheekbones. She looked up again. “Okay,” she said softly. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Stef breathed out in relief. Her thumb began tracing the lines of Lena’s face. “I love you so much. I love our family so much. Nothing, nothing, nothing, will ever be more important then that.”

“Good,” said Lena, as Stef nuzzled her neck. “I’m still mad at you,” she warned, as Stef found interesting places to deliver short, warm kisses.

“Uh-huh. Can we pretend we kept fighting and now it’s over and get right to the making-up part?” Stef wanted to know as her hands slid lower.

Lena gasped a little, and a smile made it’s way to her face. “No. You have to make it up to me,” she demanded.

“Done.”

 


	14. Mothers

 

_RL13436 requested the first time the kids said Mommy and Mama to their mothers. I hemmed and hawed for awhile, but finally got something I like. Here’s the result. Thanks, as always for the reviews and kudos._

 

“Say ma-ma Brandon. Say mama,” Stef coaxed her baby. She stood in the sunny kitchen, her son perched on her lap.

“Don’t listen to your mom, little man. Say Dada. Da-da,” Mike enunciated clearly.

Brandon babbled eagerly, his baby voice going up and down like scales on a piano. “B-b-b-b-b-babababab,” he babbled eagerly. He bounced on his unsteady legs, letting Stef take his weight so he could kick his feet in delight.

“No, no babababa,” said Stef, laughing.  “Mama. Mommy’s the best. Say Mama, sweet boy.” She looked at Mike playfully. “That twenty bucks is going to be mine, pal. You haven’t got a prayer.”

“No way,” Mike protested. “Brandon and me are buddies. We have an agreement and everything,” he bent closer to the little boy, the brass buttons on his uniforms catching the baby’s attention as he reached for them.

“Buh-buh-buh,” the baby said seriously, grasping the buttons with a wet hand. He looked at his father, “Buh-bah!” he finished.

“He’s not gonna say it,” sighed Mike, wiping the buttons surreptitiously with his sleeve. “Another day, maybe. Huh little man?” He finished drinking his coffee and walked over the sink to wash out the mug. “I should be home by 6:00 tonight,” he called towards Stef.

“Yeah?” she lifted Brandon to her shoulder, patting his back in soothing motions. She stood and moved closer to her husband. “Anything interesting going on?” she kept her voice casual.

“Nope,” he said, turning around grinning. “Miss the excitement?”

“Catching criminals?” Stef asked, still patting the baby’s back. “Nah. Brandon crawled across the kitchen floor four times without stopping yesterday. There’s no bigger excitement then that!”

“Yeah. Okay,” he smirked. He gave her a perfunctory kiss, then leaned down to kiss his son’s head.  “Bye little man,” he said cheerfully.

Stef watched her husband leave somewhat wistfully. She loved her baby, but she did miss the action of the station. And grown-up talk. She was really missing that. But she did have maternity leave for fifteen months and she was going to use it. Brandon babbled cheerfully at her as she cuddled him. “Well Brandon. Just you and Mama again. What do you want to do today?”

Brandon blew a raspberry.

“Well that’s no way to talk to Mama, is it?”

“Mama!” Brandon crowed happily.

“What did you say?” Stef asked, as she bounced him, looking into his curious eyes.

“Mmmm-mmm-mama, mama, mama,” he babbled happily, blowing a giant spit bubbles at the end.

“Brandon!” squealed Stef. “You did it. You said Mama!” She began dancing around the kitchen with her son in her arms. “You did it, you did it, you did it!” she announced to the empty room.

“Mamamamamamamamama,” Brandon said agreeably.

Stef kissed the frowzy hair on his little head, completely happy. The doubts about her life, about her and Mike, faded with this simple word. Maybe she didn’t love Mike the way she had read about in fairy tales or seen in the movies, but that wasn’t terrible, right? A lot of people probably felt the same way. Who believed in fairy tale love at her age anyway? This was enough. She had her baby. She had Mike, who was her best friend. This was enough. This would be enough. She would make it be enough. She kissed her son’s head again. “Mama,” he declared, and snuggled into her neck.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena surveyed the playground. It was pretty crowded which she had expected on this sunny spring day. Her eyes fell on her son who was tearing around the playground like a tiny dervish. She stayed on the far bench, wanting to give him as much autonomy as possible. Not like some. She couldn’t help but give a tiny smirk as she watched one mother frantically trailing her five-year old like a dog on the hunt. When he began crossing the monkey barks, she waited desperately below, arms held out in case of an unexpected fall. Lena shook her head. Helicopter parents. She had certainly seen her share. How they expected their children to grow into responsible, dependable people was beyond her. She went back to make notations on her yellow pad. She needed to make sure the rest of the staff was gearing up for the end-of-school which was around the corner. Testing. Report cards. It was going to be extraordinarily busy. That’s why she was making sure to take some time to relax today. Her head jerked up when she hear a long wail. She instantly recognized it as Brandon’s. She jumped up, placing her materials carefully on the bench as she looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. She moved around the large playground, noting many of the other mothers were looking around as well. Finally she spotted him, curled up in a heap at the bottom of the climbing structure, crying loudly. A circle of children were looking at him with grave, interested faces. Her heart quickened, Brandon rarely cried from physical pain. He always tried to tough it out. Both Stef and Mike had encouraged this.

“Mama,” she heard him sob breathlessly, “Mama,” he was clutching his arm to his chest.

Lena felt herself break a little for him as she ran in his direction. Poor little guy. Not only was he hurt, but he wanted Stef, who wasn’t there. She finally got to him, and kneeled. “Oh, Brandon,” she said gently.

“Mama!” he gasped, burying his head into her stomach.

Lena blinked rapidly, just now noticing the circle of parents forming behind her. Oh. _She_ was mama. He wasn’t calling for Stef…he was calling for her. She picked him up, cradling him gently in her arms.

“Do want us to get some help?” asked a red-head with worried eyes and a cell phone in hand.

Brandon shook his head wildly. “No! Only want Mama!”

“I think we’re okay,” Lena assured the woman kindly. “I’m just gonna…” she gestured over to the benches.

The woman nodded uncertainly and the crowd parted as she carried Brandon to the bench. Lena sat down with Brandon on her lap. He cuddled closer, his sobs only slightly softer. He clutched at his arm.

“Hey, hey,” said Lena softly. “Let me see, baby.”

Brandon shook his head and sniffled, “It huuurts,” he bawled.

Lena stroked his head, then brushed the tears off his cheeks with her thumbs. “C’mon, Little Boy Blue,” she pleaded. “Let me see your arm.”

He sniffled and looked at her, his big blue eyes swimming with tears. This particular pet name was a strictly at-home name. Lena had caught him looking at Mother Goose Rhymes five months ago and had told him that they were based on secret meanings and codes that were almost all lost in history. With his rapt attention, she told him the few that she did know. Now every time he heard a poem, rhyme or fairy tale, he would lug it over to Lena asking eagerly, “Is there a secret in this?” Little Boy Blue was now a family code name.

“Okay,” he mumbled. He held out his arm, which was already swelling.

“Oh, baby. That looks like it hurts. Thank you for being brave,” Lena said as she quickly catalogued this into “possible fracture” territory. She pressed down very lightly, watching as Brandon winced. “We need to go see the doctor for this.”

At this pronouncement, Brandon dissolved into tears, shaking his head forlornly. “No, Mama. Please,” he begged.

She shifted him back to her hip, gathering materials in her other hand. “We have to baby. But we’ll call Mommy too, okay?”

He sniffled and nodded, letting his head drop wearily onto her shoulder. She looked around, wishing there was a place she could get some ice, but knowing the food vendors only opened their places when there was a game of some sort going on. She walked quickly to the car, buckled Brandon into the seat, and began backing out of the parking lot as she called their pediatrician to see if they could get an emergency appointment. At the affirmative answer, she made a bee-line to the office, calling Stef as she did so. Stef couldn’t be there right away, but said she would be as soon as she could. Eyeing the busy traffic, Lena handed the phone back to Brandon so he could talk to his mom. He sniffed pathetically into the phone as he begged his mom to meet them at the doctor’s office.

By the time Stef arrived, Brandon had gotten an X-Ray and the diagnosis of a hairline fracture of his radius. Stef bustled in, looking official in her uniform. Brandon clutched her tightly as she picked him up, giving her a play-by-play description of what had happened.

“You are a very brave boy,” Stef said to him lovingly.

“I cried,” he admitted frankly. “But Mama was there to take care of me, so I felt better. And she said we could have whatever I wanted for dinner tonight. And I get a special treat like a sundae, or maybe a banana split or maybe even bubble gum ice cream.”

Stef gave her partner a smile, somewhat puzzled when Lena didn’t return it. She gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Wh-,” she began.

The doctor came into the room, “Okay folks. We’re ready to cast the arm. Brandon, what color do you want?”

“Ummm,” Brandon tapped his chin in thought. “Blue,” he aimed a sideways grin at his mothers and tried to wink, which was really a blink because he hadn’t got the hang of just working one eyelid at a time yet.

Stef took Brandon home so Lena could get the ingredients for dinner and dessert. Brandon decided he wanted home-made sausage and pepperoni pizza for dinner and all the fixings for a make-it-yourself sundae.

Lena was surprisingly subdued that evening, only managing smiles for Brandon when he looked at her. Stef had a feeling she knew what was the matter, and she led her reluctant partner out the door and onto the porch swing while Brandon was engrossed in a movie. She pulled Lena into her lap, and raised her chin to put it on her slightly-taller partner’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” she asked gently, trying to make eye contact.

At the loving words, Lena didn’t even try to hold back. “I broke our son,” she said, and buried her head on Stef’s shoulder, crying softly.

Stef couldn’t help but smile, knowing this was what had been bothering her partner all day. She kissed her neck. “You didn’t break him, sweetheart,” she said. “He fell. Got hurt. It happens to kids all the time.”

Lena sniffed, “I was watching this one mom and I was so smug about how over-protective she was, but maybe if I would have been watching more closely then he wouldn’t have-.”

“Uh-uh. No way sweetheart. We are not going to be the kind of parents who protect their kids from life. Honey, please,” she cupped Lena’s chin in her hand, drawing her eyes to her own, “You did nothing wrong. Brandon is fine. He got hurt. He‘s all fixed up. Everything is fine.”

Lena sniffed a little, then hugged Stef fiercely. “Okay,” she agreed softly. They went back inside to join Brandon on the couch.

The combination of the pain medication, and being cuddled between his mothers, made Brandon fall asleep before the movie had finished. Stef carried him upstairs and tucked him in bed as Lena watched. She stroked the hair on his head. “G’night baby,” she whispered as she kissed him.

“G’night Mommy,” he mumbled through a yawn.

Lena hesitated by the door, moving forward when he made sleepy grabby hands at her. She kissed his forehead. “Good night, Little Boy Blue,” she told him.

He blinked sleepy eyes at her, “G’night Mama,” he said.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The Runaway Bunny was currently Mariana’s favorite bedtime story. When Stef read it, she would add to the little rabbit’s plan of escape, and redouble the mother’s efforts to find her. When Lena read the story, she let her voice firm at the mother’s determination, and added something that Mariana adored. She called the bunny in the story, ‘Little Mariana Bunny’.

Mariana clutched her blanket to her chest as her head lay peacefully on the pillow. She loved the cadence of Lena’s voice. She loved the security of this home. It had been a year since they had arrived here, and Mariana was beginning to think that it was entirely possible that she and Jesús would be staying there. This home, would be their forever home.

Lena finished the story, then closed it gently. “Do you need anything else, Mariana?” she asked, stroking the hair off the girl’s cheeks, then turning on her Tinkerbell night light.

Mariana shook her head, the words on her tongue wanting to come out, but frozen with fear.

“All right then sweetheart. Good night. Stef will be in to kiss you good night in a minute,” she tucked the covers more firmly around the little girl’s body, and started to leave.

Lena was at the doorway, when she heard a small voice. “Mama, if I swam away in the big, blue ocean…what would you do?”

Lena smiled at the cadence of the story language, and the precious name that had been bequeathed on her. She turned around and walked over to the bed. “I would swim in the big, blue ocean to catch you, because you are my little girl,” she said.

“What if I jumped on an enormous, brown bird, and flew up into the sky?” asked Mariana seriously.

Lena sat on the bed beside Mariana, “Then I would jump on a great, big, gray bird to catch you, because you are my little girl.”

“What if a little, yellow car came to take me away?” said Mariana, her eyes pleading with Lena.

Lena swallowed. She knew there was a possibility Ana would want the twins back. She knew there was a chance that DSHS would simply decide one day to remove the twins from their house. She didn’t want to lie to the little girl, but she realized at the same time that she couldn’t lie to herself. “Then I would jump in my big, black van and get you, because you are my little girl,” she said, a lump forming in her throat.

Mariana nodded, tears glistening in her eyes in the glow of the night light. “Love you Mama,” she said, nestling into the blankets.

“I love you too, Mariana,” whispered Lena. She kissed her daughter good night.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

There were days when the sound of her own name, made Lena want to scream. This was one of those days. Brandon was recovering from a flu bug, and spent his morning grumping around the house, on the borderline of being a complete brat. Lena finally told him he needed to go upstairs for a nap, and he threw a full blown temper tantrum, worthy of a two-year-old. “Don’t. Want. A nap!” he bawled out at the top of his lungs.

Lena, weary and feeling short-tempered herself, glared at him. “Brandon, if you don’t take a nap, I’m going to think you need something else, and I can guarantee - it won’t be pleasant.”

Brandon proceeded to stomp upstairs and then tortured her by calling for her every five minutes. First he needed throat lozenges, then he needed water, then he needed more throat lozenges because drinking the water had erased the effects of the previous lozenges. Then he needed vapor rub. Then he needed more Kleenex. Finally he fell into a fitful doze.

In between these demands, Lena drilled Jesús on his flashcards, and patiently watched as Mariana held a fashion show.

By the time she had put the kids in the car, she was getting a headache. She dropped a cranky Brandon off at the station. Stef was going to take him to the doctor, they were pretty sure he was nursing another ear infection in addition to the flu. Then she dropped Mariana off at her ballet lessons. Finally, there was only Jesús in the car but he seemed to feel that he had to make up for the loss of the other two and chattered non-stop.

“Lena, why do you think Mr. Pearson’s breath smells bad? Lena, did you see that guy, why was he wearing that weird hat? Lena what does s-l-u-t spell? Lena, if  you had to choose between eating glass or eating garbage, which would you choose? Lena, when are we going to get to the math club? Hey Lena, did you ever notice that mother birds throw up into their babies mouths? Why don’t we do that?”

Lena believed in responding to every question, no matter how many times Stef had just told her to tune the kids out. She didn’t know if it was the teacher inside her, or just her deep-seated sense of the _rightness of things_ that made it unconsiounable not to _listen_. As she answered Jesús, she could hear her answers becoming more terse. Jesús, with the unerring instinct of an ADHD child, responded to this by asking more questions, with a more frantic tone. It was like he saw the edge, and couldn’t help but jump. He had to know the reaction.

Lena slammed on her brakes as another car swerved in front of her, without using a signal, then flipped her off when she honked the horn in retaliation. When she passed the car she made sure to glare at him as she began barreling down the road. If she didn’t move it, they were going to be late which meant a penalty fee.

“Mama!” shrieked Jesús from the back seat.

Lena slammed on the brakes so hard, the seatbelt caught and sliced into her chest. “What’s wrong Jesús? What happened?” she asked frantically, trying to both look and reach behind her, and pull off the side of the road simultaneously.

She managed to pull over and undid her seatbelt, just as Jesús shoved his muddy sneaker in her face. “Look Mama!” he said with a huge smile. “I did it. I totally did it. I tied my shoe!”

It was on the tip of her tongue to scold him. The only thing that held her back was the bright excitement in his eyes and the enormous grin on his face. She took a deep breath. “That’s great baby. I’m so proud of you!” Jesús and Mariana had come to them unable to tie their shoes. Their previous families had put them into Velcro shoes, too busy (or lazy) to add shoe-tying to their day. Lena had been especially annoyed by this, and had made shoe-tying a daily practice. Mariana had learned pretty quickly, but for Jesús, the combination of multiple directions, the small-motor dexterity, and the attention it called for, made it a challenging task indeed. Now he looked at her, proud that he would no longer have to have his teachers or his mothers tie his shoe for him. This was independence. Lena touched his face. “You’ve been working really hard Jesús. It’s just like I told you, if you work hard enough at something , you can do it. That’s what it’s going to be like with your school work too. Sometimes it’s going to be really hard but if you keep trying, you’re going to get it.”

Jesús nodded happily. “Yes!” he said cheerfully enthusiastic.

Lena tapped her hand on the steering wheel for a moment, then turned back to him, “Should we go get some ice cream, to celebrate?”

“Yes!” said Jesús immediately, then he paused in thought. “Wait, what about my class?”

Lena looked at the clock on the dashboard. “We’re already running late,” she shrugged.

Jesús slumped down, his eyebrows knotting. “Well-,” he said unwillingly. “I wanna keep getting better at my math. I should probably go to my lesson,” he looked at her seriously.

Lena grinned at him. “That’s a good point buddy. Let’s go for ice cream after. And we’ll get double scoops with toppings.”

“Ya-hooo!” shrieked Jesús, throwing his shoe in the air, uncaring that it bounced back down on his head. “Thanks Mama!” he yelled, clutching her in a hug around her neck from behind.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The annual police marathon was as crowded as ever. Lena sighed as she was bumped hard, again. She looked downward to find her children. Mariana was clinging desperately to Jesús’s hand. Crowds made her nervous. Brandon was scowling, trying to protect both Lena and the twins from the constant movements of the crowds and failing utterly. “We’re going to be there,” said Lena, pointing at a place near the finish line.

Jesús was bouncing in his eagerness. “When are we going to see Stef?”

“Not too long kiddo,” she assured him. She really hoped that was the case. She timed it so they wouldn’t be waiting at the finish line for very long before Stef arrived. She knew her partner wouldn’t be first, but her competitiveness would at least put her in the top twenty.

“Mom’s going to be here any minute,” Brandon assured his siblings. “She always does really well in these races.” He grinned, his pride in his mother obvious.

Jesús wiggled impatiently, running back and forth from the roped-off street, to where his family was standing. After about fifteen times of this, Lena was thinking that Jesús should have run the marathon. It might have slowed him down for at least an hour. “I see ‘em coming!” he shrieked suddenly, nearly deafening Brandon with his yell.

“Lemme see, lemme see,” begged Mariana, who was several inches shorter than her brothers. Lena tried to make room for the little girl, but the jostling was preventing her. Finally, with a sigh she lifted Mariana to sit on her shoulders. Luckily, Mariana weighed about as much as a bird, because she wasn’t strong enough to do that for a long time.

Brandon and Jesús hung onto the rope guard, screaming enthusiastically as the runners became more than just a blur on the horizon. As the got closer, Lena saw that Stef was indeed, among the first clump of runners. She was wearing a brightly covered bandana around her head that the kids had all put their handprints on. It was their Mother’s Day gift.  About 500 yards from the finish line, there was a sudden yell from the crowd. “Fuckin’ pigs!” The officers in Stef’s tight clump swerved and ducked automatically as a cascade of balloons hit them. Stef and several other officers were slammed to the ground. There was absolute silence in the crowd as the officers, smeared with red and purple paint, got to their feet stiffly. Lena could see that Stef’s knee was bleeding. Next to her, Brandon’s eyes had filled with tears of humiliation for his mother. Just as Lena was about to put her arms around him, she felt a small burst of movement by her side.

“Those bastards, I’m gonna kill them!” hollered Jesús with serious intent. His little fists were clenched and he started to lift the rope to dash under it.

Lena immediately grabbed him, nearly dislodging Mariana for her precarious position. “No Jesús,” she said, infusing enough seriousness in her voice to warn him that things would go to DEFCON 1 if he didn’t behave. She did notice that several adult members of the crowd had detached themselves in pursuit.

She kept her hand clenched on his shirt and was reaching for Brandon when she heard the high, clear voice of her daughter above her head. “You can do it Mommy! Keep running! You can make it!”

Several heads turned in Mariana’s direction, Stef’s included. Lena knew she had been a little hurt that the twins had been calling her “mama” but had yet to call her “mom”. She played it off, saying that it was understandable since they had spent more time with Lena, but Lena knew her feelings were still a little wounded.

“Go Mommy!” yelled Mariana again, her clear voice even louder in the silence. “Run, run, run!!”

Even though Stef was far away, Lena could see the flash of white teeth as Stef began to run again. Little Mariana, who spoke so sparingly and softly, even at home, had yelled out in a crowd of people. She had yelled to her mother.

“Go Mom!” Jesús seconded quickly. “Go! Go! Go!”

Girded on by the sound of the children’s voices, the crowd of cop families and friends took up the yells of encouragement. Even though several of the officers were bleeding or limping, they all moved to the finish line. Stef was limping heavily, but she moved stubbornly forward.

“Run mom!” the twins yelled in syncopation. “Run! You’re almost there!”

Lena looked down to see Brandon’s fists clenched as he whispered, “C’mon mom. Tough it out. You can do it!” He whispered it over and over, his body quivering in anxiety.

Stef grinned and flashed them a thumb’s up sign as she passed them and crossed over the finish line. It took only moments for the little family to rush together, the children clinging to Stef and she touched their heads, then hugged and kissed them. Lena planted a firm kiss against her partner’s lips, and used her own kid-made bandana to wipe the paint off her face.

“You did it Mommy!” yelled Mariana, clutched in Stef’s arms. “I knew you could do it. I just knew it!”

Jesús leaned against her right leg, and Brandon her left. “You were totally awesome, Mom,” said Jesús. “You beat a whole bunch of those other guys!”

“You did good mom,” Brandon affirmed quietly, a small smile breaking through the seriousness of his face.

“Great job, hon.,” said Lena, giving her another kiss.

Stef grinned as she hugged her three children and her partner. What a great day.


	15. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #1: Written for the Hell Yeah Stef and Lena Halloween fanfiction challenge.
> 
> This is rated M, although I tend to think it's relatively mild.

Stef looked at the sluggishly bleeding wound. _Oh shit,_ she thought. This wasn't good. Granted, it wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it might be, but crashing through a window with a suspect in her clutches had caused some damage.

"Nice move, Robocop," said her partner Steve. "Diving through three layers sheet glass was the only way to get him? Aren't you supposed to be smarter than that?"

"Weren't you supposed to grab him when he came running by your corner?" Stef retorted, dabbing at her wound gingerly and rolling her eyes at his exaggeration. "Don't blame me because you can't keep up with the bad guys, Grandpa."

"I'm nine years older than you, Foster," said Steven with a smirk. "Hardly a member of the AARP."

"Wouldn't know it to look at you," Stef grunted as she pulled the piece of glass out of her shoulder.

"Stef! What the hell!" yelped Steven as he reached forward to staunch the bleeding.

She looked at her wound as it flowed over her uniform shirt, "Whoops," she said mildly as she went to dab at the wound again.

Steven slapped her hands away and whistled to the freckled face paramedic who had entered the building, "Over here!" he called insistently.

It didn't take long for the young medic to decide she needed stiches, so she had her partner take her to the hospital, eschewing the suggestion of an ambulance ride.

"Hey, you think your lady's gonna be worried about your scratch?" said Steven conversationally as they sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Stef was clad only in her uniform pants and a tank top she wore under the uniform shirt.

"You mean _Lena_?" asked Stef good-naturally, emphasizing her lover's name. Scratch the surface of any police department, and you'd probably find an Old Boy's Club, but these old boys weren't too bad. It had been difficult when she first came out, but her captain had no patience for prejudice in any form and any member of her team who couldn't seem to handle the information, was eventually transferred out.

"Yeah, didn't you say somethin' about her being a bit squeamish?" Steve asked, his tone managing to be both teasing and serious.

"I didn't say that," Stef defended her lover immediately. "She just…doesn't like me getting hurt. That's all."

"She knows you carry a gun, right? And chase after dangerous criminals?"

"Ye-es," admitted Stef slowly. "I just…think she has a different idea of what my day-to-day work looks like."

"You tell stupid criminal stories? Talk about the homeless people you babied? Laugh a lot?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Stef averted her eyes a moment. It's not that she _lied_ to Lena, she just didn't want to scare her. Or the kids. And her stories were always true, she just left out some of the details. But in truth, she really _had_ never shot anyone and her ability to out think criminals made her job more like a game - most of the time.

"I do it too," said Steven honestly. "What's the good of them worrying all the time? They worry about us then they don't get to live their own lives. That's not right."

"Lookit you, the hospital philosopher," Stef joked.

He gave her a wry grin, then nodded to the young woman in scrubs heading over to them, "Looks like you're gonna get fixed up. I'll see you later," he patted her leg companionably as he got up.

"Yeah," Stef said. She followed the PA to a curtained bed. What the hell was she going to tell Lena?

After it was over and she'd got a ride back to the station, Stef sat in her car, staring at her shoulder in the driver's side mirror. The stitching was neat, but there was absolutely no hiding that it was a wound. She patted the neat white bandage back down, contemplating her options. There was really only two that she could settle on; tell Lena, or lie to Lena. They both had significant ramifications. Of course, maybe there was a third option, thought Stef as she began driving home. She didn't have lie to Lena, she could just put off telling her…until the wound was almost totally healed. Then she would come clean. Mostly clean. Of course, hiding an injury on a body that Lena knew intimately was a daunting task, especially tonight. Stef drummed the steering wheel lightly. Not having sex was certainly not an option. With three kids in the house, if they had a chance for grown-up time, they jumped at it…and on each other. Lena would sense something was wrong if she pulled away. Either that or she'd be incredibly hurt. No good options there. Waiting at a stoplight, she heard a shriek that immediately put all of her senses on alert. She relaxed when she saw a giggling teenage girl being chased (by a teenage boy was Stef's guess) in a werewolf mask. Stef touched the bandages thoughtfully. It was Halloween. That could be helpful.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Lena hummed as she pulled the tray of pumpkin seeds out the oven. "Lemme see Mama!" Jesús hollered as he leaned over her, practically taking a nose-dive into the oven.

"Jesús! Be careful," Lena maneuvered him away from the heat with one hand as she held tightly to the steaming tray of seeds with the other.

"Oops. Sorry!" he offered her a gap-tooth grin where a former bottom tooth had resided.

She noticed a trickle of red and immediately set the pan down on the counter. "What happened Jesús? You're bleeding," she said, capturing his chin in her hand.

The little boy touched his lip experimentally, "Oh, it's not real. It's just a blood capsule. Me n' Brandon were trying them out."

"Brandon and I," she corrected him matter-of-factly, wiping the fake blood off with a Halloween-themed dishcloth.

"Uh-huh," he agreed amiably.

"Where are your brother and sister anyway?" Lena asked, turning as she washed her hands at the sink.

"Brandon got fake blood all over his shirt and he's trying to wash it before you find out," Jesús tattled without thinking. "Mariana got grossed out by the blood and went to try out her princess costume. Again," he made a face.

Lena smiled, "Well, tell them to get down here. The pizza's going to be here in ten minutes and we want to eat in time to go trick-or-treating."

"'Kay!" Jesús ran upstairs eagerly.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Stef took a short breath as she walked in the door, then smiled as she saw her children bent over the coffee table, apparently absorbed in what they were looking at. "Mommy!" Mariana spotted her first.

"Hi Mom," said Brandon, not looking at her as he traced a path on the paper with his finger.

"Whoa – cool!" shouted Jesús, "You look like a freak!"

Brandon looked up immediately and Mariana skidded to a stop in front of her mother. "I'm not a freak," said Stef, taking care to sound insulted. "I'm Frankenstein!"

Brandon approached his mother more slowly than his siblings, staring at her critically. "Frankenstein was the name of the doctor, not the monster. Mama was reading that to me last week."

Stef rolled her eyes, kissing each of her children, saving him for last and ruffling his hair as she did so, "Fine Mr. Smarty-Pants. I'm Frankenstein's Monster then."

"Okay," said Brandon matter-of-factly, reaching to touch one of the fake scars peeking out from under the torn lab coat. "That's cool," he said.

"Really cool!" said Jesús, trying to touch all the scars at once and coming perilously close to handling her real scar with more force than would be comfortable.

Stef straightened quickly, "Did Mama order pizza?" she asked throwing the question over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen, the children trailing behind her.

"Yup," said Mariana, trying not to get underfoot and immediately doing so, "She's re-slicing it up right now."

Stef crept into the kitchen wrapping her arms around Lena from behind and kissing the back of her neck. "Hey hon," she spoke into Lena's ear.

Lena grinned, making the last cut to a large pizza, "Hey." She lay down the pizza slicer, and turned around in her lover's arms, giving her a tender kiss.

"Eww," said Jesús, "Mushy!"

"Get out of here then," Stef suggested lightly, tickling his stomach when he came too close.

"We don't have time for you to be mushy," he whined. "Mama says we have to eat before we go trick-or-treating and I wanna go right away so I can get the most candy."

"Okay, okay!" sighed Stef, raising her hands. "You get the plates and I'll pour the milk, all right?"

She gave Lena another kiss, taking the time to brush her fingers lightly against her cheek. Part of being a cop meant pushing aside the knowledge that you put your life in danger when you went to work. A cop who went to the job afraid every day was going to be either incredibly ineffective or dead. Most likely both. But that didn't mean there weren't times when she deliberately savored the rhythm of her home, the smiles of her children, and the feeling of her partner's soft skin. These were things worth appreciating…things worth remembering and reminders that she shouldn't take stupid risks.

Lena's eyes were warm with affection, and she shoved her lightly, "Go get the milk before our kids start climbing the walls and hanging from the ceiling lights."

Stef grinned, kissed her once more, and got the milk.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Dinner was a raucous affair with the kids volume control completely unbalanced and the fact that Jesús managed to spill his milk twice, then for good measure…Mariana's milk as well. Stef was a little grateful for these distractions as they kept Lena and her hopping with little time for ordinary conversation. This usually would have bothered her but for now, she was thankful for the reprieve.

When Stef suggested a quick wrestling match, (complete with oil and bikinis) to decide who was going to take the kids trick-or-treating, Lena just grinned at her and handed her a beer. "Have fun sweetheart," she said blithely, shoving another one in her lover's tattered lab coat pocket for good measure. "Kids! Mommy's ready to take you trick-or-treating!" she yelled upstairs.

"That's not fair," said Stef, trying for pathetic puppy dog eyes. "I took them last year."

"And you'll take them again next year," said Lena calmly, "And the year after that and the year after that…because that's our agreement."

Stef sighed and shook her head. Two years ago, Lena had taken the kids trick-or-treating and it had been an unqualified disaster. To be fair, Stef hadn't known that the boys had drank a can and a half of Red Bull before she sent them off with her partner. Mariana _had_ mentioned that she hated vampires, but the way she said it, made Stef think it was the same way she hated broccoli and when her cartoons were interrupted on Saturday morning. She didn't know the little girl was completely terrified of them. It had been a bad night. Stef apologized profusely, mostly because whatever she thought, _Lena_ clearly blamed her for the night, even though it was somewhat good humored. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You get to hog the _fun_ job," she said with a mock pout.

Lena grabbed her chin and gave her the kind of kiss she felt all the way to her toes. Stef blinked at her partner, immediately heavy lidded. Lena used her weak knees to push her to the living room. "Go on, I'll see you later," the words were light, and being said in front of the children, her remark seemed completely innocuous. That was unless you were looking at her eyes, and saw the implied meaning in the curve of her lips. Stef carried that image with her as her children dragged her out the door.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 _Beer was good_ , thought Stef. She had pocketed a third one when Lena's back was turned and was feeling…happy. The kids were overjoyed at the haul and even Jesús's energy seemed to be flagging which in itself was a minor miracle. Stef knew it was time to head back before their mood switched from cheerful to cranky. It could happen in seconds and she wasn't willing to endure any candy-induced tantrums. After piling, trading, comparing, and trying to consume more candy, Stef and Lena sent their protesting children to bed.

When Stef plodded tiredly to their bedroom, she was met with a surprise. Eight grinning Jack-o'-Lanterns provided the sole light in the room. The bed was strewn with candy corn. Stef turned around grinning, "Lena, you nut! How long did this take you to-" she stopped and swallowed.

Whatever Lena was supposed to be dressed up for Halloween, it was someone or something that was nearly naked. The cloth, what there was of it, draped across her hips and only over one breast. "You like?" asked Lena, in an everyday voice, turning around slowly, as if she regularly seduced her partner in a Halloween-themed bedroom.

"I-uh," Stef shook her head, trying desperately not to start babbling like some ridiculous cliché. Dear G-d, was that body paint? How did she manage to get it _there_? "I…what did you say?" she asked, her hazel eyes showing honest befuddlement.

Lena chuckled, her rich laugh rolling over Stef in waves. "I asked…" she sashayed over to her partner, her hips swaying to such an extent it was a miracle that the cloth stayed on, "If you liked what you saw," she finished with an open kiss, and a tiny nip of Stef's lower lip.

"Yes," said Stef immediately. "I like. I definitely like!"

Lena chuckled again, curling her arm to stroke that back of her lover's hair, and readied herself for another kiss, when Stef spoke quietly, "I always like what I see. You leave me breathless every day of our lives together."

The thoughtfulness temporarily derailed Lena's seduction, and this time her kiss possessed sweetness under the passion. It was easy to get distracted with day-to-day living, but they both tried very hard to keep the romantic part of their relationship a priority.

Lena gently pushed her partner to the bed until Stef's knees hit and buckled as she sat. Lena straddled her and began removing clothes as though it was an Olympic sport.

Stef tried to protest and think of a way to remove her lab coat without hurting her shoulder, but Lena's warm kisses made it difficult to concentrate. "Um, Lena," she tried, kissing back and trying to work the buttons with one finger, "Can we…" Lena's fingers chose that moment to find a new place to linger and Stef was momentarily speechless again. Lena managed to remove her lab coat, her shirt, and was working on her bra before Stef regained her senses. "Lena I…"

Lena's warm fingers coasted over the wound, and paused. Even in the low light, Stef saw the crease in her lover's forehead, and her heart sped up. "What's this?" asked Lena, slowly sliding off her lap.

Stef tried to catch her before she slipped all the way off, but Lena pushed her away to get up and turn the bedroom lights on. Stef squinted at the brightness, their harsh light making her feel more exposed. "Just a cut," said Stef, trying to keep her tone careless. "I was running and got snagged on something. Stupid really." It was the truth, just not the whole truth. She struggled up and walked over to her scowling lover.

"When were you going to tell me?" Lena asked.

"Later," said Stef honestly. "Really, it was just no big deal and I didn't think much about it." Well, that last part was more lie then truth. After the three beers she hadn't thought about it. After seeing a nearly naked Lena she hadn't thought of it. The rest of the time? Yeah, it had been on her mind.

Lena looked at her with those piercing brown eyes. "Really?" she asked slowly.

Stef trotted out a smile. "Really. Once I was with the kids…once I was with you…it wasn't important." That at least was the truth.

Lena's hands were on her hips and it was clear she didn't buy it. Stef needed a distraction. She went over to the light switch, flipping the switch off again as she took Lena's hand and led her back to the bed. "I was thinking about you all day. Wondering what my treat would be. Whispering that before I left for work today was just cruel, love," she said in mock stern tones.

"I promised a trick or a treat," said Lena, a slow smile curving her lips. "Maybe you'll get a trick instead."

"No I won't," breathed Stef quietly. "You wouldn't do that." She pulled Lena back down to the bed, rolling on her good side as she did so.

"Maybe I would," said Lena trying for a stroppy tone, "When you're trying to trick _me_."

Stef closed her eyes. "I just didn't want you to worry," she admitted in a soft voice.

Lena looked at her pensively, "You better be more careful then," she said.

Stef nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Of course."

Lena's hands began roaming again, making Stef gasp and feel the blood rushing to her head in slow waves. "Lena," she groaned.

"Hmmm?" Lena had taken to mouthing her way down Stef's chest, letting her tongue circle her lover's nipple and letting her teeth graze it with light force.

"You…I…" Nobody but Lena could make her lose her mind so quickly. It would be embarrassing if it wasn't unbearably sexy.

Just when she was about to lose it, Lena slowed down to nearly a complete stop, letting her body press against Stef's. "You're treat's under the pillow," she murmured into Stef's ear.

Stef reached upwards, trying not to wince as she felt the stitches pull. Her fingers grasped a cylindrical object. She brought it closer to her face, her mind trying to process what she was seeing. "Uh. Babe?"

"Uh-huh?"

She could feel Lena's smile pressed into her thigh. "The end is shaped like a-"

"Jack-o'-Lantern, yeah. I was going for a theme tonight."

"It's-it's orange," stammered Stef, still unable to believe what she was looking at.

"Yup," said Lena happily. "And guess what else?"

"What?" asked Stef, dragging out the word suspiciously.

"It glows in the dark."


	16. New Acquaintances, New Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So awhile back, when I began this little story, YouDontKnowObsessed posted a remark in relation to an off-hand comment I had Stef make about she and Mike being less cultured than Lena. Indeed, how would Stef react when faced with a onslaught of “Gold Star Lesbians” and their ideas on “What it is to be a Lesbian”. Thus, the story is born.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to those who have been so kind as to review. I appreciate those so much. My especial thanks to L, who beta’d this for me and asked for “stroppy Lena”.
> 
> Rated M.

 

Stef shifted the bowl from one end of the counter to the other.  She looked at it, cocked her head, then moved it again. Nope, not there either. The problem was solved when Kelly brought in two more bowls and took over arranging them.

“What are you doing?” she asked Stef.

“Nothing,” said Stef, removing her hands from the bowl she’d been about to move again.

“This place looks fabulous. I can’t believe you and Lena waited a whole two months to host a party.”

Stef frowned a little. “Moving boxes,” she explained. “It took us awhile to get rid of the mess.” Actually it had taken them longer to get rid of the things they had decided were no longer suitable for their household, and to buy a few that were. Stef frowned again. It seemed like an inordinate number of her things got trashed or donated. Although, she admitted to herself, they seemed like the things that _should_ have been trashed or donated.

“Oh look, there’s Sandy,” said Kelly, indicating with a nod of her head. “Lena will be so happy, she didn’t know if she would make it.”

Stef closed her eyes. Sandy. They had barely spoken the last time they had met, but it hadn’t been a good experience. “Oh good,” she said with false heartiness. I’ll just go…” she waved her hand without saying anything and turned to go.

Before she got very far, she heard Sandy’s smooth contralto behind her.  “Stef, so lovely to see you again.”

The pasted on smile felt very fake to Stef. She hoped it wasn’t as apparent to the other woman. “Sandy, hello,” she said evenly.

“The house looks beautiful, darling. I can tell Lena decorated it. She has such a exquisite taste, doesn’t she? I bet she just pulled you into everything she wanted. I know what she’s like when she bats those beautiful brown eyes at you.”

Stef wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t just the possessive, “I’ve known her longer” tone to her voice, it was the condescension that goaded her. “We actually picked out everything together. It’s amazing how similar our tastes are,” she said with an even smile. It wasn’t a complete lie, there were several things they had agreed on…and there were other things they had spirited discussions over. That was normal though, right? It certainly had been the same when she had been married to Mike.

Sandy gave her possibly the most insincere smile in the entire universe. “Of course, my dear. I’m sure that’s true.” Her tone showed that she thought Stef was spouting complete and utter crap.

Stef mentally closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she got to five she decided to hell with it and was going to say what she _really_ thought when a crashing from the stairs made her spin quickly in that direction. In less than ten strides she had made it to the base of the stairs where she faced her startled, sullen off-spring. “Brandon!” she hissed.

The startled look on his face clearly indicated that he hadn’t meant to send his dump truck crashing down the stairs full of blocks, but the fact that he was playing near the stairs when she had told him to play in his room irritated the hell out of her.

“Come down here and pick it up!” Stef ordered in no uncertain terms.

“Fine!” Brandon stomped down the stairs, Mike’s old USN t-shirt flapping around his knees.  He grabbed the toys and began heaving them up the stairs, disregarding any sense of aim.

“Brandon!” this time she grabbed his arm. “Stop!”

“I’m doing what you told me!” Brandon said grumpily. “Why are you still yelling at me?”

_Because you’re getting on every last one of my nerves_ , Stef thought. _Where’s my sweet little boy?_ She took a deep breath, just now noticing his Nerf gun peeking through under the shirt. A wave of sadness swept through her. They hadn’t seen Mike for nearly three weeks. He refused to pick up the phone when she called. He had called Brandon only once the whole time. Brandon had stopped asking for his dad every day by the end of the second week, but had taken to wearing Mike’s shirt all the time, refusing to take it off even to be washed. The Nerf gun had been given to Brandon on his dad’s last visit. Stef couldn’t decide whether it was genuine gift or meant to piss her off. Neither of them had been big on the idea of play guns, but the Nerf had been an exception They had bought Brandon the ones that barely looked like a gun to let him play with his friends. Lena had been less enthused about guns and they had quietly “disappeared” after Brandon had stopped playing with them for a time. She released her son’s arm and stroked his cheek lightly. “I need you to be more careful with your things please,” she said calmly.

Brandon looked at her uncertainly, then nodded, responding to the calmness in her voice as he trudged up the stairs.

Sandy’s voice drifted from behind her. “What a charming little boy,” her facial expression indicating the opposite.

“We’re kinda attached to him,” Stef said dryly.

“Of course he-,” Sandy’s reply was cut of with Brandon’s joyful shout.

“Lena!” he jumped down the stairs, two at a time, narrowly missing the bannister and throwing himself into Lena’s arms.

“Hi baby!” Lena said gently, running a finger through his dark brown hair.

“You came back!” he chirped cheerfully. “You said you’d be back at-“ her looked at the clock across the room, “5:00 and you were! You were back right when you said!” his delight was completely unfeigned.

Lena gave Stef a significant look and Stef nodded. Her partner was right. Brandon had become more anxious about Lena leaving ever since Mike had disappeared. Clearly he expected her to vanish too.

“ _What about me?” Stef asked, torn between worried and slightly offended. “He doesn’t seem worried about me being gone.”_

_“Stef,” Lena’s eyes were gentle as she cupped her lover’s chin in her hand. “You’re his mommy. You’re eternal. You’ve been there his whole life. He doesn’t worry about you leaving because that’s not even on his radar. He thinks you’ll be there forever.”_

Stef felt a little knot in her throat as she looked at them, two dark heads bent in what she could only assume was playful conspiracy.

“Look at this Brandon,” Lena coaxed as she held the boy with one arm and reached into a bag with another. “Look what I got you.” She pulled out khaki colored slacks along with a long-sleeved gray shirt and dark blue vest. Brandon looked at her seriously. “I saw these at the store and I just had to get them from you. I knew you’d look so handsome.”

Brandon didn’t bother reaching for the clothes. “You bought them for me? Cause you were thinking I’d look nice?”

“I knew you’d look nice,” Lena said, planting a kiss on his nose. Brandon giggled a little. “I thought you could wear them today,” she continued.

The smile drifted away from the little boy’s face, and he twisted his hands in the USN shirt, he looked at Stef, then back at Lena.

“We could get your shirt all nice and clean,” Lena continued, pretending not to notice, “And you can dress up in your new clothes.”

Brandon nibbled a fingernail as his brow drew down in thought. He looked at Stef again. “We could get the shirt nice and bright,” Stef encouraged, “We’ll have it looking just like when Daddy first got it.”

He reached out a tentative finger to stroke the vest. It was made of a shiny material. “Okay,” he said softly.

“Great!” Lena let him shimmy down and watched fondly as he dragged  the bag upstairs, bumping it on every step as he did so.

Stef walked over to Lena, rubbing her nose gently against her lover’s. “Thank you,” she said softly. “It was a good idea.”

Lena grinned and leaned in for a kiss. “Thanks I think-,” her eyes darted over Stef’s shoulder’s as she said, “No, Jenna! Don’t put that there we-,” she hurried over to the living room.

Stef sighed in disappointment. “Lena’s amazing.” Sandy’s voice interrupted her plotting in trying to get her partner alone. “I’m sure she’ll have that little boy whipped into shape in no time.”

Stef’s eyes narrowed as she turned back to the other woman. “What do you mean by that?” She didn’t try to hide her irritation.

Sandy’s smile was as dry as the desert, “Just what it sounds like,” she said as she sashayed into the kitchen.

Oh that…Stef started after her only to be caught by Lena’s smile as she laughed at something Jenna was saying. _She’s really having a good time,_ Stef thought. She looked at the kitchen longingly. _I can deal with this_. She took a deep breath, and went to find another serving dish.

After several minutes, she had arranged the cheese and crackers more to her liking, and had rubbed her suddenly sweaty hands on the side of her pants before she grabbed a bowl, when she heard the low, “…and with a man!”

Stef’s lips twisted a little, as she put the bowl down and moved closer to the lowered voices on the other side of the wall.

“And she was married! For over five years!” a scornful laugh accompanied this pronouncement. Was that Terri…Teresa…something with a T anyway.

Another voice, not scornful but fearfully thoughtful said, “I’m not sure how she can really call herself a lesbian. I mean, she isn’t. Not really. She’s bisexual. And I mean, I don’t even have a problem with those kind of people, if you know, they’d say what they actually are.”

“It’s bullshit,” agreed another voice. “I’m so sick of them jumping into the community without ever understanding what it’s like to really be gay.”

There were murmurs of agreement and Stef bit the inside of her cheek.  “Eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves Stefanie,” her mother had warned her when she had caught her at eight, straining to hear her parent’s conversation about whether she would get to go to camp that summer. _Well, you’re right again_ , Mom, thought Stef. _As usual._ But, you know, it was nice to know these people had her life figured out for her. Good thing they were so fucking perfect and always knew who they were. She banged the bowl loudly as she left the room.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

There was a weird energy in the room. Lena couldn’t figure it out yet, but it was making her uncomfortable. She scanned the room quickly. Her friends were in little clumps and the busy hum in the air suggested that conversation was advancing as normal. The food spread out among various areas was steadily depleting, so there was no problem there. Drinks were flowing but nobody was drunk. Brandon was seated at the coffee table, industriously coloring something. Lena sighed a little as she looked at her son. The plan had not been to have him here tonight. When they planned this, over a month ago, Friday nights had been Mike’s nights. When it became clear that Mike was diving deeply into the bottle, they had tried to make other arrangements. Frank had agreed to take Brandon but later claimed, “Something came up.” Stef had rolled her eyes when relaying this conversation to Lena, clearly feeling something was going on. Lena didn’t know Frank well enough to say what that something was, or was not. He was civil, but only just. He and Stef had gotten into it on several occasions. Lena was amazed that either of them continued to persist in their weekly meets. They were a matched set in the stubbornness department and Lena was afraid that change would be happening slowly. Seeing Stef with her father made Lena simultaneously miss her own parents, and breathe a sigh of relief that they were not here to meddle. Her mother anyway. Her quiet, reflective father would always let her walk her own path, but her mother was another story. Stef’s mother was different as well. Lena had only met her partner’s mother once. Sharon Elkins was a spitfire, there was no doubt about that. But as blustery and presumptuous as she could be, she supported them with nothing more then a raised eyebrow and a steady smile.

As Lena continued to glance around, she realized Stef was not in sight. A small frown furrowing her elegant face, Lena casually walked by the groups of women knotted together to check various rooms in the house. No, no, and no. Slightly perturbed, Lena went out the front door, only to find her partner looking out into the mist, the shadows beginning to grow long, an inscrutable look on her face. “Stef?”

The other woman turned, smiling a little when she saw Lena. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing out here?” _Alone_ , her mind supplied but did not finish.

Something flitted across Stef’s face before she offered an opaque smile. “I just wanted to get some fresh air. I love it when it rains. I love the way the earth smells.”

Lena cocked her head. Stef wasn’t lying…exactly, but there was something else. She could tell. She opened her mouth to press the issue, when the door opened. Kelly poked her head around and met Stef’s eyes. “Umm, I think something happened with your son,” she explained apologetically.

Lena reached out, trying to touch Stef’s shoulder. “Honey, just…” she was surprised when Stef avoided her touch, and practically slammed through the door.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef closed her eyes, then practically punched the door open. There had been more questions. Supposedly, an innocuous getting-to-know-you type question. Or at least, what passed for small-talk in this group. Where did you go to college? As the group of women went around extolling the virtues on Vassar, UC Berkley, and Smith, Stef felt the small knot that had been in her stomach tighten further. When the curious heads had turned in her direction she managed to trot out a devil-may-care grin as she tossed her head a little. “I went to UC Blue,” she said. It wasn’t a great joke, or really one at all but she gave herself points. The other faces looked politely, quizzically blank. She broke it down for them a little more. “I didn’t go to college. I went to the Police Academy after I graduated from high school.”

One woman – Lori – spoke tentatively. “You mean police officers don’t go to any kind of real school?”

Stef kept the smile on her face, although it was beginning to hurt a little. “Some do. We get quite a few candidates that are from the Armed Forces. Neither of those happened to be me.”

“Well that explains a lot, doesn’t it?” said Sandy blandly to another woman – Julie?

“Explains what?” Stef had lost her smile and was glaring a little.

“Cops. I mean, we’re always having problems with them, aren’t we? Brutality, prejudice. What can you expect from people that aren’t educated? It’s not like it’s their fault,” her tone sounded like it was trying to find the setting for _compassion. “_ Their bosses should understand that better than anyone. They’re the ones responsible for…perpetuating this ignorance.”

Stef felt her hand clench hard, digging her fingernails into her skin. What the hell did this woman know. Good G-d, 9-11 had happened only two years ago. Police and firefighters killed doing their damn jobs. When she thought she could speak evenly, she gave the other woman a poisonous smile. “I’ll be sure to let the guys know. Hope you don’t need us when some thug is trying to break into your house.” The other women in the group looked away, obviously embarrassed as Stef spun and walked out her front door. She stared out in the misty yard, so embarrassed and angry and hurt that she had to keep her arms tight across her chest.

_And now what,_ she thought going back through the door. _Now what?_

Sandy met her at the stairs, lips thinned in irritation and real anger in her eyes. “Your son shot me with that gun,” she snarled. The woman held the tiny Nerf dart in her hands as proof.

Stef’s eyes narrowed as they found her son, who couldn’t seem to decide whether cowering or meeting her with bravado was in order. She strode over to him. “What were you thinking?” Stef demanded.

Brandon scowled and looked away as the frown on his forehead deepened. The set of his little shoulders was a carbon copy of her but the set to his chin was all Mike.

“You shot Sandy?” Stef’s voice was incredulous.

Brandon’s little arms tightened around his chest but his teeth gnawed worriedly at his lower lip as he dared a quick sidewise glance at her.

“Brandon, what did your father and Lena and I tell you about that gun? What did we say would happen if you shot anyone with it?” Stef kept her voice pitched low, and tried to block their interaction from Sandy by keeping her back toward her.

Brandon’s lips compressed more tightly, “You said you’d take it away.”

“That’s right.” Stef reached for the gun and tugged it easily from his grip.

“How long are you going to keep it?” asked Brandon sullenly, obviously not recognizing (or choosing to ignore) the danger signals his mother was emitting.

“Forever,” Stef snapped back, completely fed up with him.

The little boy’s eyes widened, “That’s not fair!”

Stef glared at him and pointed a finger at his nose, “Buddy, you do not want to be talking about fair with me at this time.”

“It’s not fair!” Brandon whined more loudly.

Several heads swerved in their direction and Stef saw Sandy make a little movement towards them before a smirk was covered by her artfully decorated and manicured hand. Without hesitation she reached down and picked up her recaltrient son. It took her less then ten seconds to make it upstairs to his room and drop him on the bed.

He glared at her, face red and tears of rage in his eyes. “You’re mean!” he yelled. “I hate you.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Stef responded, “Because you’re stuck with me.”

Brandon stomped his feet on the mattress, then began to kick the bedpost. Stef sighed and wrestled his shoes off him, then threw them out of his bedroom door for good measure. “You stay here and calm down,” she demanded.

“No!” Brandon yelled.

Stef took a deep breath. It didn’t help. She took several more. When she could talk, her voice was full of warning. “Brandon, I guarantee if you try to leave this room, if you even open the door, you are not going to like the consequences, do you understand me?”

The tears spilled over before he threw himself onto his pillow. “I hate it here and I want to live with Daddy!”

Stef closed her eyes again and left the room as her son’s sobs filled it. She stopped in the bathroom to smooth her hair down and splash water on her face. This…this had not been a good day. In fact, this was the worst party she had ever attended, and that included the one where she got drunk and made out with Benny Carlson. Benny Carlson for G-d sakes! Sweet kid but dumb as a box of rocks.  Reluctantly she left the safety of the bathroom to go downstairs.

It was the knot of women over by the new couch that gave her pause, especially when she heard that hated voice. “I mean, you’ve seen how he is. Luckily, we all know Lena can work miracles. That kid’s going to need all the help he can get, being raised as he has.”

Oh that was it. Stef was sick of this woman. This was her home. She refused to be judged by this woman in her own home. She stomped down the stairs with serious intent.

She was stopped by the icy tone of her partner, standing two feet away from the women, holding a plate of canapés in her hands. “What did you say?” Lena’s voice was even but filled with enough danger that conversations in the nearby vicinity stopped.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena had been stunned by Sandy’s words, but it was the look on her partner’s face that had made her breath catch; a combination of wounded pride, humiliation, and nascent anxiety. Was that had been what was wrong today? Stef had been taking great pains today to show How Excited She Was and How Much Fun She Was Having. It had triggered all of Lena’s warning bells but in between trying to find babysitters, cleaning, and preparing the food, she had managed to convince herself that everything was okay. “What did you say?” she repeated, her eyes never wavering from Sandy’s face.

The other woman’s smirk slipped a little, at the barely suppressed anger in Lena’s voice, but she covered it with a roll of her eyes. “Oh come on Lena. Don’t you think it’s pretty obvious. _All of us_ have noticed. _All of us_ have said something.” Behind her, Lena saw Jenna shake her head, not in irritation but negation and she saw Susan actually roll her eyes as she walked away.

“Really,” said Lena flatly, putting the platter down in a decided fashion. “Anybody who says or even thinks that is welcome to leave. In fact,” she shouldered through the phalanx of women to open the door with such force that it banged loudly against the wall. The conversation in the entire room stopped. “Anybody who says or thinks that _needs_ to leave. Now.” She looked at Sandy pointedly. “You are not welcome in our home.”

They locked eyes. “Lena,” Sandy began in a presumptuous tone, “Calm down and just think about…”

“Get out of our house!” Lena repeated, her voice sounding even louder in the silence.

Sandy gathered her purse and coat in a huff, letting her gaze fall finally, frostily, on Stef. Stef smirked a little and wiggled her fingers in a good-bye wave. Sandy turned, and taking a few of her sycophants with her, shut the door.

“Thank G-d,” Kelly said conversationally, tipping a glance towards Stef. “I’ve always hated that woman…and she makes lousy hummus.”

There were a few chuckles as the crowd lost it’s discomfort and the room regained it’s hum of conversation. Stef made her way, somewhat bemusedly, down the rest of the stairs. When her foot hit the bottom step she found her hand clasped unceremoniously by her irate lover. She wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or amused as Lena practically dragged her to the bathroom and shut the door. Stef leaned back against the wall, her eyes soft as she looked at Lena.

“Has she been bothering you? This whole time? Today? Before today? Why didn’t you say something?” Lena got out rapidly.

Stef tried to shrug a little, and pulled out a half-smile. “I don’t know. It didn’t really matter.” She had felt stupid then and she felt stupid now.

Lena leaned in closer, her hips practically fusing to Stef’s. “It did matter. It _does_ matter. She had no right, Stef.”

“She’s been your friend since grad school,” Stef said weakly.

Lena’s eyes glinted dangerously as she placed her hands on Stef’s shoulders, shoving them against the wall a little, “ _You_ are my partner. I love _you_. Everything about you. You are who I chose, for everything that you are.”

Stef’s felt her heart-ache ease a little. “So much for the gay community being the bastion of forward thinking,” she joked weakly. She eyed Lena warily, “It was so hard for me, to figure out who I was, where I belonged, and even though I know that now, there’s still people who are trying to convince me that it wasn’t right, that I made a mistake.”

Lena pulled her forward now, to kiss her cheeks and her lips with gentle, heated kisses. “Everything you had to figure out, every single struggle you endured brought us together.”

Stef nodded, her forehead against Lena’s, letting her embrace soothe her as she basked in warmth of home.

 

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Unfortunately a party like this one made it difficult to have an adult interlude, no matter how much said adults wanted it to happen. They left the bathroom somewhat rumpled and even the knowing glances passed around by their friends didn’t stop them from holding hands, and stopping to kiss. Often.

As Lena went to fuss with the leftovers in the kitchen, Stef trudged back up the stairs to deal with their son. A piece of paper lay outside the door, the slightly crumpled edges indicating he’d taken her words seriously and had chosen to shove the paper under the door, rather than risk opening it. She turned it over, unsure of what to expect. Written in his neat primary script was: _Im sorry mommy and I love this howse and I want to liv with you and Lena and I love you and Lena very much. Your son Brandon._ The picture showed her and Lena with Brandon in the middle, optimistically armed with his Nerf gun. “Nice try little man,” Stef said to herself softly as she traced the lines. “You still aren’t getting it back. Not for awhile anyway.” She opened the door quietly and saw him sacked out on the floor, crayons and colored pencils littering the area around him. She picked him up, divested him of his clothes, and reclad him in pajamas, all without disturbing his slumber. “Night, night baby,” she whispered. “Mommy loves you too. Even when you drive her crazy.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

As Stef made her way down the stairs, Jenna waved her over. The other woman smiled at her and gave her a bottle of beer as Kelly grinned at her. “Our son Garret’s a little poetry reading maniac. Everyone thinks he’s brilliant. Last Saturday when we were doing an interview with a preschool, a very expensive preschool, he tore off his shirt and pants and yelled, “I am King Oberon, lord of the fairies!” He made three circuits of the room before he crashed into the art easel. We did not get in.”

“Kids are weird,” Jenna chimed in. “You never know what the hell they’re going to do, even when you think you know what they’re going to do.”

Stef grinned, reluctantly amused as Kelly tipped their beer bottles together. “Welcome to the family, Stef. And know that all of us aren’t like that two-faced, pretentious, cold-hearted bitch, Sandy.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Stef confirmed quietly. Like filings to a magnet, she scanned the crowd until she found her beloved, only to discover that she was receiving an intense stare of her own. Lena nodded subtly, her eyes promising.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Without hesitation, Lena shoved her partner onto the mattress. Stef’s smile was a little drunk as she looked up at her. “I can’t believe you left the kitchen a mess. Food is still everywhere. You never-.”

She wasn’t able to say anything more as Lena’s lips covered hers. “Shut up,” Lena murmured sweetly. “You’re ruining the moment.” She dove in for another kiss as Stef happily surrendered to the onslaught.

“I just…I just…,” Stef blinked a little, somewhat owlishly at Lena. “What was a saying?”

“That you’re a happy drunk,” Lena said, unbuttoning her shirt swiftly and going for her bra.

“Wow, you’re fast,” said Stef happily. “You’re really fast. It’s like magic. You can…you can. Wait, are you magic?”

Lena rolled her eyes and unbuttoned her lover’s jeans, pulling them and her panties down in one motion. Excellent. That would save time. She crawled on top on Stef, their naked bodies pressed together. Stef gasped a little, and her eyes dilated and seemed to come into focus better. “You like that?” whispered Lena in her ear. Stef whined a little and tried to grind into Lena. Lena raised herself up and laughed a little. “Uh-uh,” she said into her lover’s neck, letting her breath warm the skin there. “My turn.”

“Lena...Lena,” Stef gasped a little as her partner’s fingers found interesting places to travel. “Oh G-d, Lena please.”

Lena let her tongue paint a trail from Stef’s bellybutton up around and over her breasts and back down again. Stef moaned, her fingers finding Lena’s head and stroking her hair with fingers that trembled slightly. She looked up, catching Stef’s blue eyes, slightly overwhelmed by desire. “I love you so much Stef. Always. You can’t forge that.”

“Wo-on’t,” Stef’s voice was strung out, hanging by a thread.

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” Lena moved her fingers at a particular angle and felt Stef begin to shudder. “I’ll make sure you know,” she said, fingers ceaselessly rubbing velvety folds, “Every day,” Stef trembled again, “Our whole lives,” Stef was whimpering now, over-stimulated but unable to stop, “I promise,” Lena whispered as Stef finally grabbed her and held her tightly.

“I love you,” Stef whispered, breath coming out like a soft sob.

Lena stroked her cheek with one hand, letting it fall finally on her chest. “Love you too.”

 


	17. Independence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks again for the reviews. My gratitude again goes to L., who beta’d this chapter.

Changes had been steadily occurring in the Fosters-Adams household. Jesús’s transformation had been in small steps, but they were more obvious. He was more relaxed, he joked more, and allowed himself to be cuddled as much as his boyish dignity would allow. Mariana was different.  She loved them, but continued to be terribly clingy, trailing after them, always needing one of them in sight. She was anxious about a multitude of things, little landmines that exploded at the most inopportune times.

One of these landmines showed up in the form of bicycles. Neither of the children knew how to ride a bike when they entered their new home, even though Jesús was aching to do so. Lena and Stef had bought the twins brand new bikes for Christmas, Stef chafing a little at the cost until Lena reminded her, rather pointedly, that they had not had many presents that were brand new.

It had taken numerous falls, two scraped knees, a bruised elbow, and two anxious mamas, but Jesús was riding his bike by dinner time on Christmas Day. Full of pride, Jesús bragged confidently that in fact, it was, “No big deal,” and that soon he’d, “Be doing tricks like Brandon.” In turn, Brandon had been thrilled that his brother had mastered bike-riding so quickly and was full of plans about jumps and impractical notions of biking to Disneyland.

Mariana watched her brother, wide-eyed; bursting into tears every time he fell. She could barely be persuaded to sit on the bike, and then only with Lena holding onto the handlebars. By the summer this had changed only a little. Mariana could be coaxed to ride the bike, but on the driveway, and only if Lena watched her. If Lena even looked towards the house, thinking about her ever extensive to do list, Mariana would slide off her bike and trot to Lena at full-speed. “Time to go in Mama?” Both the boys and Lena encouraged her to ride her bike with them, but each entreaty was met with a quick shake of the head and, “No thank you.”

Lena was the first to notice that after Mariana began calling them, “mom” and “mama”, she had become braver about riding her bike. She wouldn’t ride without the training wheels and she wouldn’t ride without Lena, but she was the one who chose to ride her bike, and she began to do so almost as much as her brothers.

“We need to get those training wheels off,” Stef said one night. They were seated on the love seat outside, enjoying the coolness that the dark brought with it.

Lena lifted her head from Stef’s chest a moment to look at her. “I just told you she’s choosing to ride more often. That’s a good thing.”

“It is,” Stef agreed. “But at this rate she’s going to be learning to ride a two wheeler and drive a car at the same time.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Not everything needs to be on a specific timeline Stef. We don’t need to push her.”

Stef hesitated, “We don’t need to push her in _everything_ , but we do need to push her sometimes.” She stroked Lena’s back, encouraging her to recline again.

Her lover was having none of that. “What do you mean, exactly?” she asked, sitting up completely.

Sighing a little, Stef met her eyes. “I don’t think everything can happen when they want it, or when they’re comfortable.” Lena opened her mouth to argue and Stef raised her hand. “I know there’s a lot of things in their lives they haven’t had control over and they have to feel safe with us, but I do think people, any person, can get too comfortable and are unwilling to challenge themselves. Sometimes we need something to push us.”

Lena grasped Stef’s hands, stroking them with her fingertips. “I don’t think she’s ready,” she said quietly. “I just don’t. I want you to trust me.”

“Oh, love,” Stef said, twisting a little so they were facing one another, “I do trust you, totally. Let’s just…look if she isn’t riding her bike by the end of the summer, let’s consider pushing the issue, okay? We can still talk about it.”

Lena nodded, lying back down with her head in Stef’s lap. “Okay. We’ll talk about it at least.”

“That’s all I ask.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Every Fourth of July there was a children’s parade that allowed children to decorate their bikes and participate in the parade festivities. Jesús and Brandon had already decided on a Star Wars theme and were trying to make their bikes into speeder bikes. To their credit, they had asked Mariana to join them, but she had shaken her head at them, her eyes clearly troubled at the very thought.

It was two days before the holiday when Mariana walked in the house, still wearing her princess pink bicycle helmet. She carefully took it off and put it on one of the kitchen chairs, then went to stand next to Lena, leaning on her leg with affected casualness.

“Hi baby,” Lena said, touching her head gently. “Did you have fun?”

“Uh-huh,” Mariana said, craning her neck to see what Lena was making for dinner. After spying the tell-tale signs of chicken casserole, Mariana resumed her previous position.

Lena let her stay there, absorbed in flavoring as she added more ingredients, Mariana seemingly content.

“When’s Mommy coming home?” asked Mariana, her tone deceptively casual.

“Not too much longer,” Lena responded, “About thirty minutes.”

“Hmmm,” Mariana tapped her cheek to show she was thinking, a recent habit she had picked up.

“Is there something you want to talk to Mommy about?” Lena inquired, inwardly laughing at the antics of her daughter.

“Maybe. I mean, if she has time,” Mariana plucked nervously at the hem of her shirt.

“Would you like to talk to me about it?” asked Lena, because clearly her little daughter did.

“Well,” Mariana said. “I thought maybe Mommy could help me with my training wheels.” She looked sidewise at Lena, pausing deliberately. “Like taking them off and…teaching me to ride.”

“Really?” Lena asked with the same casualness as her daughter. “Start riding without the training wheels?”

“Uh-huh,” Mariana fiddled with her braid and stuck the end in her mouth, sucking at the tips. “I think I’d maybe, sorta like that.”

“Hmmm,” said Lena thoughtfully, lightly dusting the casserole with on last dash of spices and sliding it into the oven.

Mariana frowned a little, looking worried, “Do you think she’d do it? She’s not too busy or anything?”

Lena took off the oven mitts and pulled the little girl over to a kitchen chair, boosting her onto her lap. “Mommy would be delighted to help you learn to ride a two-wheeler. She’s going to be the happiest mommy ever.”

Mariana grinned a little, and burrowed her face in Lena’s shoulder, overcome with the idea of pleasing her mom so much. “How about I tell Mommy when she gets home?” Lena asked the dark head resting comfortably on her shoulder.

Mariana nodded, nibbling at her hair again. Lena gently removed it. “Not it front of the boys though, okay?” Mariana requested quietly.

“Have your brothers been teasing you sweetheart?” Lena inquired, her voice sharpening slightly.

The little girl shook her head instantly. “Nuh-uh. They’ve been really nice about the bike. I just don’t want them to know,” she paused, frowning, unable to express what she wanted.

“Maybe you just want this to be a special time?” Lena said, “Just you and Mommy?” Mariana’s eyes brightened, and she nodded vigorously, happy that her Mama understood her so well. “Yes!”

Lena cuddled her a little, kissing the top of her head, “I’ll let Mommy know.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“I didn’t think she could get any cuter, but then she goes and does something like this,” Stef kissed Lena’s forehead as they lay peacefully in their bed.

“I know. You should have seen the look on her face. It was the sweetest thing ever. She practically had stars in her eyes,” said Lena from her cozy position on Stef’s arm.

“Why do you think she wants me to teach her?” Stef asked, running her fingers lightly across Lena’s skin pretending to ignore the fact that Lena had arched herself into the touch and was humming with satisfaction. “We both know she’s most comfortable with you.”

Without a doubt, Lena was her go-to Mama in most situations. If she needed to be cuddled, wasn’t feeling well, wanted to talk about her feelings, had a problem she needed help with, she inevitably went to Lena. However, Lena had noticed that Mariana almost always went to Stef when she had done particularly well on a school assignment, was frightened by something, or, paradoxically, when she had done something naughty, or thought she had done something naughty. Brandon was appropriately horrified when he found this out. Lena, had listened to the somewhat hilarious conversation from the kitchen.

“Why’d you tell Mommy you got in trouble at school today?”

Mariana shrugged one shoulder, focusing seriously on the picture she was drawing, her little face scrunched in concentration.

Brandon hesitated, his own face creasing a little. Being a big brother was more difficult then he imagined. Clearly he had failed his little sister in some way if she hadn’t understood this fundamental fact. He plucked the crayon from her fingers so she would look at him; she did, scowling. He kneeled next to her. “You don’t tell Mommy first when you’ve been bad. Tell Mama. She’ll make it not sound so bad and make Mommy not so mad about it. She knows all these great words and she’s really, really good at making Mommy happy again.”

Lena quietly swallowed her laughter at her son’s logic, and had an even harder time resisting the urge to laugh when Mariana coolly took the crayon back from Brandon. “You don’t know everything, Brandon Foster.” She went back to her coloring.

Brandon clambered to his feet, looking down at her as he huffed impatiently. “Fine! Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said as he left the room.

The “crime” Mariana having committed being that she was talking to her friend during class, Stef’s reaction to Mariana was a mild, “Talk to your friends at recess sweetheart.” That night she pulled Lena close to her in a crazy impromptu dance around the kitchen saying, “She got in trouble for talking in class. _Talking_! At school! With people that aren’t us!” They had celebrated with ice cream, not letting the kids know how they had earned the unexpected treat.

Now Lena turned over, a smile pulling on her lips, eager to share her theory with Stef. “I know why,” she said, her voice a facsimile of a child’s playground taunt.

Stef narrowed her eyes at the tone, “Why?” she demanded. Lena’s mischievous grin made her grin in return, without knowing the reason why.

“Because according to Mariana, I’m the Mama, and you’re the Daddy,” Lena giggled.

“Wait-what?” Stef said, blinking in confusion.

Lena smirked a little. “Every home they’ve been in has been with heterosexual couples, and from what I’ve understood, fairly “traditional” households,” Lena said, going so far as to add air quotes. “Clearly, Mariana has decided to reorient our household into something she understands.”

“But I…I…,” Stef blinked again. “I’m the Daddy?”

Her partner nodded with contrived sympathy. “I’m afraid so. The cop uniform, the cans of beer, the butchy swagger…you can see where this is coming from, right?”

“I-I suppose so,” Stef’s voice had gotten quieter. Obviously this had never been a problem with Brandon. He had a father and there had never been any doubt who was his mother. Adding Lena as his mother hadn’t changed his parents dynamics towards him, so that particular aspect didn’t seem to bother him. But still...she wasn’t actually…did Mariana really…?

Her thoughts were disturbed by the shaking body next to her. “Lena?” she said calmly. The shaking stopped abruptly.

“Yes?” the inquiry was full of sweetness.

“Are you screwing with me?”

The giggles erupted and Lena laughed until she was limp. She draped her leg and arm over Stef, her body finding the curves that leant themselves to her body so easily. “A little,” she admitted. “But I do think it might be a little of how she sees us. She’s trying to make our parenting dynamic us a little more familiar to her. That’s not all of it though.”

“What’s the rest of it?” Stef asked, letting one hand tangle absentmindedly in Lena’s curls.

Lena closed her eyes blissfully, “You’ll have to find out.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Okay baby, are you ready?” Stef asked, clapping her hands lightly as she looked at Mariana.

The little girl’s face showed her apprehension, but she nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Stef bent over the little pink bike and unscrewed the training wheels quickly, wanting to get them off before Mariana lost her nerve. She tossed them to the side of the yard, and motioned over to the little girl. “C’mere, baby,” she requested gently. Mariana held back for maybe two seconds, then trotted over. Stef boosted her into the seat. “First you have to learn to balance,” said Stef. “To do that, you need to know how the bike feels. I’m gonna stand in front of you with my arms stretched out.” She demonstrated by stretching them over the handlebars. “You try to balance. If you look a little wobbly, I’m going to reach out and steady the bike again. Understand?

Mariana nodded again, biting her lower lip. It took several tries, but after awhile, Mariana was able to balance on the bike for a few seconds. She looked at Stef for approval. “You’re doing great baby,” praised Stef. “I think we’re ready to start riding.”

Mariana shrank a little, looking imploringly at Stef, “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice.

Stef plucked her off the bike and knelt in front of her on the grass, clasping her daughter’s hands in her own. “I promise Mariana, I’m not going to let you get hurt,” Mariana relaxed a little. “And I promise you something else,” Stef said, ducking forward to catch the little girl’s eyes. Mariana stared back at her, brown eyes full of trust, “You will learn to ride a bike without training wheels.”

A dimple appeared on Mariana’s right cheek as she grinned widely at Stef, then she looked at the bike. Her fear was thinly masked with determination. “Ok, let’s try it.”

Stef kissed her clasped hands, and led her over to the bike. She propped her daughter up on the bike as they rolled back-and-forth through the grass, letting Mariana get the feel of the bike. It seemed like they had made a hundred repetitions of the yard. Stef’s back was beginning to ache. “Don’t let go,” warned Mariana for the fiftieth time, seeming to sense her mother’s fatigue.

“I won’t,” repeated Stef, trying to mask the weariness in her voice.

More repetitions of the year, more entreaties not to let go, more affirmations of trust. Morning crept into afternoon, and sweat dripped from them both. Stef looked worriedly at her little daughter. “Maybe we should go in,” she suggested lightly. “We can try again tomorrow.”

“Nuh-uh,” Mariana shook her head; her damp bangs clinging to her forehead. “I’m gonna do it Mommy. I promise.”

“I know you can do it sweetheart,” Stef said, rubbing the little girl’s back comfortingly, “But you’re getting tired. I think it would be a good idea to take a break.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Mariana, uncharacteristically stubborn. “I’m gonna do it today.”

Stef sighed inwardly, thinking longingly of a tall glass of water. Suddenly, Lena appeared carrying two large glasses of ice waster. Stef made a pleased sound in the back of her throat. The woman _did_ have psychic powers. That was awesome….and convenient. She stared at her lover intensely, trying to send another thought. She actually stumbled on her own feet a little when Lena raised her eyebrow and smirked knowingly.

“How are my two girls doing?” Lena asked, dropping a kiss on Mariana’s forehead.

“We’re okay Mama,” said Mariana, taking the water gratefully and gulping it.

Stef followed suit, feeling the water recharge her. “Thanks hon,” she said to Lena. Lena kissed her cheek and looked fondly at both of them. Mariana leaned into her stomach.

Stef’s eyes narrowed a little, then cleared. “I’ve got an idea,” she announced. Mariana and Lena eyed her curiously. “Mariana, I’m going to hold your bike, and Mama’s going to hold onto you, okay?”

Mariana looked at them cautiously. “Really? Won’t that be harder?”

Lena looked like she wanted to repeat that sentiment but Stef shook her head. “We can do it.” She positioned Mariana and put her hands on the seat and handlebars. Lena got on the other side, her hand lightly brushing Mariana’s shoulder. “Okay,” she affirmed.

Both women jogged slowly beside the little girl, their strides easily following the small, slow-moving bike. Mariana straightened, holding the handlebars for firmly as they traveled through the grass. Lena’s hand grasped her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “I’m ready!” shouted Mariana in a breathless little voice. “Let go! I can do it!” The women released her at the same time. Triumphantly, Mariana peddled through the grass in the yard until she made it to the driveway. She wobbled a little as she dismounted the bike. “I did it! I did it!” Mariana yelled, waving her arms triumphantly.

Her mothers swept her up in a dual hug. “Yes you did, sweetheart,” Stef said.

“We are so proud of you,” murmured Lena.

They kissed her cheeks while Mariana squirmed impatiently. “I wanna do it again!” she crowed. So she did.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

A Week Later:

 

“Mariana, c’mon! Are you going to ride with us or not!” cried Jesús impatiently from the doorway.

Mariana rolled her eyes a little. “I’m coming Jesús!” she yelled back. “Stop rushing me!”

“Enough with the yelling,” warned Stef from the sink.

Lena covered a smirk, then glanced at their other child. “Hey,” she warned Brandon as he tried to sneak away without putting his cereal bowl in the sink. Sheepishly, he returned and ducked under her hand as she playfully grabbed at him.

“Mama and I thought we’d join you guys. We can go for a bike ride together,” said Stef, twisting so she could face the children.

The children nodded eagerly. “But not yet Mom,” Jesús said. “We want to try some stuff first.”

“Yeah, not yet,” chimed Mariana.

“As long as the stuff you’re trying doesn’t involve any more poorly constructed ramps,” Lena warned.

“What about good constructed ramps?” asked Brandon cheekily.

“Putting together a three hundred piece Lego set doesn’t actually make you an engineer buddy,” said Stef with a quelling look.

“No ramps,” Lena agreed, glancing heavenward for perseverance.

Jesús groaned in disappointment and Brandon sighed deeply. Suddenly, Jesús perked up. “Hey! I bet we could use those cones and make one of those things where you go around them!”

Brandon brightened, “Like a slalom course?” he asked.

Jesús’s head bobbed up and down eagerly.

“Cool! Bye Moms!” yelled Brandon as he took off.

“Bye!” Jesús echoed, following his brother.

Mariana began following them out, then made a detour, hugging first Lena, then Stef tightly around the waist. “Bye, Mommy. Bye Mama,” she said.

“See you in a little bit, baby.”

“Good-bye sweetheart.”

The women quietly moved to the living room window, overlooking the street. Stef leaned close to the window, and Lena rested her chin on Stef’s shoulder. “Look at that,” Stef said quietly, watching their daughter dart around on her bicycle.

“Yeah,” Lena agreed, smiling into Stef’s shoulder. “Look at her go.”

 


	18. Scary Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #1 I am having some issues with the finale. Bradley, Peter…I love you, but I don’t love your choices. Next season can we please have some non-catastrophic consequences for our teens when they make bad choices? What about a nice, long grounding, or perhaps taking the car keys might be in order?
> 
> A/N #2 My thanks for the awesome reviews. I really appreciate it when people take the time to write their thoughts on the stories. Much thanks again to sweet L., for taking the time to revise, even though she was having a crappy day.

“C’mon Brandon.”

“No way Jesús. You’re nuts. Moms would totally freak if they found out.”

“But they’re not going to find out. They’re gonna be gone for the next three hours and we have our “responsible” big brother looking out for us, so they won’t worry,” Jesús smirked knowingly.

Brandon’s grimace was comical, “Which is why we aren’t watching that movie. It’s a horror movie. And its rated R.”

“Pete says it’s an awesome movie. His dad let him watch it when he was at his apartment this Saturday and he said I would really like it!”

“No,” Brandon made himself sound bored, hoping this would derail his persistent sibling.

Jesús frowned in disappointment at his brother’s tone. “Dude, why do you have to be such a pansy all the time?” When he saw the hurt look on Brandon’s face, Jesús wished he could take back the words. He hadn’t meant to say them. There had been a few hiccups when they were little, both deliberately and inadvertently finding the soft places that hurt the most when you poked them. They tried not to do that too often, knowing that those were the things that left deep wounds. That was one of them. “I’m sorry, man,” Jesús’s tone was awkward. “I didn’t mean it.”

Brandon frowned at the book he was holding, drumming his fingertips lightly on the spine. “Fine, let’s watch it,” his tone and glare dared his brother to say anything again.

“We don’t have to,” said Jesús, trying to give the older boy an out, but his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted to see Saw, really, really badly. The only way that was going to happen was if he saw it when his moms weren’t home.

Brandon dropped the book onto the coffee table. “You’d better put it in now, before Moms come home.”

Jesús practically ran to the DVD player and shoved the disc in. The boys watched the opening scene in fascinated horror.

Mariana wandered in, “Hey, what are you guys doing…” her voice trailed off and her eyes widened. She ran over to the couch and buried herself between her brothers. “What are you watching? What’s happening to that man!” her voice trailed off in a terrified squeak.

“I dunno,” Jesús couldn’t take his eyes away. Man, this was even more gross then what Pete had tried to tell him.

Brandon was starting to feel a little sick. This was a really horrible movie. Why had he agreed to this?

Mariana opened one eye, only to watch as the camera focused in on the pool of blood and brain matter on the ground. “Brandon! Jesús! I’m telling Moms! Make it stop!”

“You aren’t telling Moms,” said Brandon, looking pale but resolute as he stared at the screen. “You know that wouldn’t be cool.”

“I’m gonna,” Mariana’s voice was wobbly. “I’m gonna tell and you guys are gonna get busted.”

Jesús shoved his sister a little, never taking his eyes from the action, “You are not! If you do, I’m telling Moms why you were late last Wednesday.”

Mariana’s lips pushed forward in a pout as she shoved back.  “You better not!”

“Hey, knock it off you guys,” Brandon said, glad to be distracted from the gore. “Mariana, stop being such a cry-baby, you know you won’t actually tell on us. Jesús, stop being a jerk.” As he had hoped, it stopped their arguing and they turned their irritation onto their older brother.

Granted, Jesús’s glare was short-lived as there was a shriek that grabbed his attention, but Mariana continued to look reproachfully at her older brother. “You shouldn’t be watching this, and you know it Brandon.”

“Well, I am. So’s Jesús. You better go somewhere else for awhile because we aren’t even twenty minutes into it and,” he grimaced as a person on the screen groaned, showing their open wound, “It doesn’t look like it gets any better.”

Mariana worried her lip between her teeth , “I don’t want to be by myself upstairs, it’s scary!” She looked back into the hallway which suddenly seemed shadowy and ominous.

Jesús groaned, “Holy crap Mariana, it’s broad daylight. What are you scared of?”

“I’m going to be hearing screams and other horrible noises from the TV, that’s what’s scary!” she shot back.

“Fine, stay here then,” Jesús said, sounding extremely irritated. “But you better not ruin it for us.”

Mariana stayed for the whole movie, burying her head in whichever brother’s shoulder seemed convenient at the moment. Neither of them cared, and Brandon even patted her shoulder absentmindedly once and awhile.

When it was over, the boys stared at the credits. “That ending was totally sick!” said Jesús in a tone of wonder. “I can’t believe the dead guy was actually the bad guy!”

Brandon’s lips were compressed. “It’s stupid. It was a stupid movie with a bunch of blood and guts to make it look like it was cool.”

Jesús rolled his eyes. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you got scared.”

“No I’m not Jesús, it’s stupid,” Brandon turned on him, real anger in his eyes. “Some asshole killing people in the most horrible way he can think of? It’s gross.”

“It’s just fake, dummy,” Jesús said. “Why are you getting so pissed off?”

“Where do you think these people get their ideas from?” asked Brandon, getting madder by the second. “They get their ideas from sick freaks out there, then make money off of it.”

Jesús scowled. This was the problem with Brandon. He had to take everything so seriously all of the time instead of just having fun. “Whatever,” he mumbled, irritated that his brother seemed bent on spoiling his fun. “At least we got to watch it…finally.”

Mariana pulled her head out from the pillows, hearing them arguing. “Is it over? Are you sure it’s over?”

“It’s over, Mariana,” Brandon assured her. “You shouldn’t have been here at all though. You’re going to have nightmares.”

“ _You_ should have turned it off,” she said reprovingly. From the scowl on his face, she could tell that he knew she was right.

“You better get the movie and put it somewhere until you can give it back to Pete, as soon as you can,” Brandon finally said, turning away from his sister and looking at his brother. “Moms will ream me if they find out we watched it.”

Nodding in agreement, Jesús hopped off the couch and grabbed the DVD from the player, then took long-legged strides up the stairs.

“You have homework?” Brandon asked his sister gruffly.

Mariana nodded, rubbing her arms to warm them, even if she wasn’t cold. “Just a paper on Where the Red Fern Grows. I have to write an essay that compares two of the characters.”

“I can read over it when you’re done,” offered Brandon, beginning to straighten up the living room.

Mariana recognized it as a half-apology, she shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Jesús, you better get your homework done!” Brandon bellowed up the stairs. “Moms are going to be here in like, forty-five minutes!”

“Ok!” Jesús stuffed the movie in his backpack and clattered down the stairs. “I have math again. Would you help me Mariana?”

She sighed noisily, “I have my own homework to do, Jesús.” She got up and started towards the stairs.

“I’ll help you Jesús,” Brandon said. “Is it fractions again?”

“Yeah, it’s multiplying the mixed numbers with the regular fractions. I forget what to do,” Jesús said as they went into the kitchen to work.

Mariana ignored them as she plodded up to her room, but hesitated at the door, looking tentatively at the closet. There _probably_ wasn’t some crazy serial killer waiting for her there. Even so…she heard her brothers laughing noisily and the scraping chairs indicated that there was a shoving match going on. With one quick movement, she grabbed her backpack and darted down the stairway to the noise and warmth of the kitchen.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

That night, neither mother was pleased when their children delayed their bedtime routine significantly with various antics.

“I am not going to say it again you guys. Get up to bed, now. Jesús, go brush your teeth in your bathroom. Mariana, take your toothbrush and go to our bathroom. You can brush your teeth there tonight.” Stef looked at the clock. “You guys are almost a hour late for bed. Get going. Now!” The twins decided it would be in their best interest to move quickly. Making their mom repeat herself, _again_ , would be a bad idea. Stef rolled her eyes and looked at Lena, “I’m going to get some tea, love. Would you like any?”

“That would be great honey, thank you,” Lena said gratefully. Brandon sat quietly on the couch, hoping to remain unnoticed. “Brandon, go upstairs and put your pajamas on, you can brush your teeth right after your brother,” said Lena, indicating the stairs with her eyes.

Brandon bit his tongue. He was _twelve_ and perfectly capable of knowing when to put on his pajamas when it was required, but he knew saying that would be a bad idea. Whining had gotten the twins banished, so he would try a different route. “May I please stay up a little longer Mama?” he asked politely. “I’m almost done with my book and I really want to finish it.”

“Go put on your pajamas and after you brush your teeth, you may read for ten more minutes. Then you need to stop, whether your book is finished or not.” Lena’s voice was tolerant but her tone indicated that arguing would be both fruitless and ill-advised.

“Okay,” Brandon mumbled. He trudged up the stairs, cudgeling his brains for a way to wheedle more reading time.

“Those kids are driving me crazy,” announced Stef as she returned with the tea. “They have been weird all night. What is with them?”

Lena shrugged an elegant shoulder, “Whatever it is, they don’t want to go to bed. I gave Brandon ten more minutes, but then he has to go to sleep too.”

Stef nodded, then looked up the stairs, “What is going on in their heads?”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Time’s up baby,” Lena announced as she walked into Brandon’s room.

The boy barely looked up from his book, another Lloyd Alexander book, she noted absently. At the rate he was going through them, he’d be done with them before summer. “Just another minute? Please Lena?”

“No sweetheart,” Lena said calmly, going over to sit on the bed beside him. “You need to go to sleep. You look exhausted.”

He stifled a yawn furiously. “I’m not, really!”

“Brandon,” Lena’s voice held a warning.  “Time to sleep. I mean it. It’s a school night and we’ve already talked about this.”

“But…” Brandon began, looking desperately about the room, trying to think of something to make his mother change her mind.

Lena simply slipped the book from his grasp, and reached to turn the light out as she gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Good night.”

He pulled the covers to his chin, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my day?” he pleaded, trying to buy more time.

Lena paused at the end of his bed, confused. “I did ask you about your day. You said it was fine and you told me that you were going to try and create a panel circuit for the science fair. You also told me Miss Porter was going to have you try a new piece. Was there something else?”

“Well, um. It’s just…I mean, it feels like we don’t talk anymore Mama.” Jeez, he should feel really bad about this particular manipulation, but he _really_ didn’t want her to turn the lights off.

His mom returned to his side, seating herself once again on the side of his bed. “What do you mean Brandon?”

“I…,” there was a crash and a thumping sound.

Lena turned her head. “Jesús, is that you?” she called to the end of the hall.

“Um…yeah!” he hollered back.

“What are you doing?” she asked, getting up from Brandon’s bed, silhouetted in the hallway light. Her hands were on her hips so Brandon knew she must be pretty exasperated at this point.

There was a ominous pause. “Nothing!” Another thump betrayed him and what sounded like an entire shelf falling to the floor.

“I need to go check on him,” Lena sighed, turning to her older son. “We’ll talk later, ok?”

“Yeah,” Brandon sighed a little as he leaned back into his pillows. Looking around the darkened room, he scowled. “Stupid movie.” He reached out and pulled a flashlight from a drawer as he grabbed his book from the nightstand. Maybe a little more reading would help.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena was dismayed to find what seemed to be the entire contents of Jesús’s dresser drawers, bookshelves, bins, and laundry basket strewn across the rest of the room. “Jesús,” she warned his back as he scrabbled through a pile.

He jumped guiltily, then put on his sweetest smile, the one he knew his mother had a hard time resisting. “Hi Mama,” he said cheerfully. “I didn’t hear you come in.”  
“I don’t think that would be possible,” replied his mother, trying to find her equanimity. Clearly it was hiding behind Patience and Sense of Humor, who were also MIA. It had been a long day.

“Huh?” the boy looked puzzled

“You’re making a lot of noise,” Lena clarified.

“Oh…yeah…well, I was just looking for something and,” he gestured aimlessly around the room, then promptly lost track of what he was trying to say.

“And?” Lena prompted.

“And what?”

Lena sighed. “Never mind. Would you like to tell me why you, your brother, and your sister are acting so strangely?” The slight widening of his eyes told her she was on the right track. Brandon might be more dependable, and Mariana might be the one who tried her hardest to please, but Jesús, with the added bonus of not having pretensions or obfuscations in his interactions with his family, was a terrible liar.

“We’re acting weird? I don’t think we’re acting weird. Maybe you’re acting weird. Or, maybe we’re all acting weird, but everyone acts weird sometimes.”

Lena raised a weary hand, “Jesús, have you taken your night meds yet? You know they take awhile to help you wind down.”

“I did take them,” Jesús sounded a little insulted. “Sometimes I just get this way Mama. It’s not a federal case. Jeez.”

Lena pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ok. I want you to get into bed,” she ordered.

Jesús looked around, as if suddenly noticing that his room had exploded, “Uh, shouldn’t I like, clean up or something?”

“No,” Lena grabbed his hand and led him to bed. “You  need to go to bed. Now.” She tucked the covers in around him, then began running her fingers up and down his arm in a soothing motion. “Just relax. I want you to close your eyes, and start taking deep breaths. Let’s imagine a nice, quiet place. There’s a river nearby, and we can hear the water running. We can feel the sun on our faces…” Lena continued her soothing mantra until she saw Jesús’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. He struggled to keep them open, until she began rubbing his forehead in small, circular motions. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef lay next to her daughter as they stared at the golden glow reflected on the ceiling. Mariana’s head was perched comfortably on her shoulder as she chattered on, “…And then Lexi told Maria that she shouldn’t be so mad, because it wasn’t our fault Mr. Lee used our project to show the little kids how to do a report. We worked really hard and for a lot more time than she did. Instead of being jealous she should have done better work, right Mommy?”

Stef nodded, “That’s what it sounds like sweetheart. So everything else is going okay at school?”

“Uh-huh,” Mariana nodded matter-of-factly. “I think I’m going to join the Drama Club. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I think that’s a great idea, sweetheart,” Stef said, drawing the girl closer. “It sounds like something you’d enjoy. Is Lexi going to join too?”

“I don’t know. It’s okay if she doesn’t though. There’s some other nice girls there,” Mariana cuddled more closely to her mother. She loved these times, when she had her mommy or mama all to herself. She could still remember how unsafe she had felt, her entire life. Even Jesús, as brave and as good a brother as he was, couldn’t give her a complete sense of safety. He had been too young and too small to protect them from the dangers the world had presented, even though he tried very hard to do so. But in the arms of her mothers, Mariana felt completely safe. There was no fear, no lingering sense of dread…just love. Incredible, ineffable love.

Stef tickled her cheek a little, producing a giggle. “So, anything else you want to give me an update on?” she raised an eyebrow, “Anything else you want to talk about?” her voice was casual.

Mariana’s stomach tightened guiltily. Brandon was right, she couldn’t tell on her brothers. It wouldn’t be right. “No,” the brightness had left her tone.

“Hmmm,” said her mother non-committedly. “Well, you know Mama and I are always ready to listen, no matter what,” she rearranged the bedclothes, then looked pointedly at her daughter.

“I know,” Mariana squeaked as she nervously played with the hem of her yellow pajama top. She knew her mothers loved her. It wouldn’t stop them from being angry though.

“Alright love,” Stef kissed her forehead after giving her one last squeeze. “Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay. Good night Mommy. I love you.”

“Good night baby.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena and Stef began passing one another in the hall, giving a high-five as they occasionally did. “Yes! Bedtime…check!” Stef joked as she stole a moment to kiss her partner.

“Thank G-d,” sighed Lena. “I thought I was going to have to shoot Jesús with a sedative to get him calmed down.”

Stef grinned and leaned in for another kiss, pausing when she felt her partner scowl against her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“That boy,” Lena fumed, starting to head to Brandon’s room.  “I told him no more reading.”

Stef turned in that direction, seeing the muted glow of light from underneath the door. She grabbed her lover’s elbow gently. “I’ll get him,” she said. “I need to say goodnight to him anyway and Mariana’s waiting for her goodnight kiss.”

“Okay,” Lena frowned at the door again. “I wish I knew what was going on with them.”

“We’ll find out. We always do…eventually,” Stef smirked.

“Mm. That’s true,” said Lena, stroking Stef’s cheek with a fingertip, then giving her a little shove. “Go on. You deal with our son while I say good-night to our daughter.”

“Annnnd break!” said Stef, throwing her arms up. Lena stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Like in football,” Stef began to explain.

Lena rolled her eyes, “I hate it when you use sports metaphors,” she complained.

“Well, it’s not exactly a metaphor,” Stef began, only to realize she was staring at her partner’s back, then lost her focus when she got to her ass. Maybe the weekend would allow them some time for _other stuff_. They sure hadn’t found time lately. She walked stealthily down the hall, avoiding any excess noise as she eased into Brandon’s room. Luckily, Lena hadn’t closed the door all the way so she avoided the inevitable click. She sneaked closer to her son, who was curled up on his side, trying to mask the flashlight’s beam even more. In one smooth motion, she grabbed the book and swatted his backside with it. “Hey! Mama told you no more reading.”

Brandon jumped about three feet in the air, and turned over instantly, breathing hard. “Mom!” he hissed angrily and with growing mortification.

Stef raised an eyebrow. “You are supposed to be asleep, young man. Want to tell me why you’re still reading after Mama told you to stop?”

“I was waiting for you?” he asked without much hope, licking his lips nervously.

His mother snorted inelegantly. “Nice try. Want to tell me what’s going on with you guys? It’d be better if you just confessed.”

“Nothing,” Brandon said unconvincingly, avoiding eye contact.

Stef rolled her eyes. “Right. Well, it’s time for you to go to bed. C’mon.” She gave him a kiss and tousled his hair fondly after she had rearranged his covers to her liking.

As she turned to go, Brandon sat up. “Mom?”

She paused by the doorway and turned, “Yes?”

“Can I umm, have my flashlight back?”

Stef’s laughter carried her out the door.

Brandon flopped back into his pillows. Well, at least he had a spare.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The house seemed really loud tonight. Mariana was sure she could hear every single creak it made, even after her mothers had gone to bed. She shivered as a particularly eerie noise seemed to drift up from the floorboards. Monsters weren’t real. She knew that. She was eleven after all. But Brandon was right. There were actual serial killers and escaped mental patients, and other scary people out there. She shivered under the covers. A small scraping noise near the window made her cover her mouth with her hand and shriek quietly. That was it. She needed to get out of here. Grabbing her stuffed cat, Esperanza, she tiptoed to the hall and headed for Jesús’s room. She paused when a faint noise made her turn towards Brandon’s room. She could see a small bit of light and she remembered hearing her moms talk about Brandon reading when he wasn’t supposed too. That in itself was nothing new. Brandon liked to read, so did she. But she also remembered the pinched look on his face as the movie progressed, and the disgust on his face as they watched the people die gruesomely. She took a step that way, then looked back at Jesús’s door. Her twin had always been her protector, the one she could count on. He really was the best brother, even if he annoyed her most of the time. But then Brandon was probably scared too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t like horror movies any better then she did. Maybe she could help both of them. She walked to his room and opened the door quietly, forgoing the knock. “Brandon,” she whispered.

“What?” he sounded more irritated than scared as he looked up from his book.

She paused shyly at the doorway. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

He frowned, but it melted a little as he looked at her earnest face. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Just don’t kick me or something.” He lifted the covers to invite her in.

Mariana practically skipped over and snuggled under the blanket, the heat warming her from the chill of the hall.

“Better?” Brandon’s voice was more gentle now and he rearranged the covers so both Mariana and Esperanza were covered completely.

“Uh-huh.” She noticed the flashlight was still on. “What are you doing?”

Brandon shrugged, then flipped it on and off. “I dunno.”

His sister watched him curiously. “Did you try playing the shadow game?”

Brandon smiled a little. The shadow game had been an invention of Lena’s that she had taught him when he was just a little kid. They had had a lot of fun, finding all the different pictures that shadows could make. It was even better than cloud pictures. When they had gotten the twins, it was one of the first things he had wanted to teach them. “I tried,” he admitted. “All I see is serial killers; serial killer in the closet, serial killer at the kitchen table, serial killer with a….” Brandon stopped at the impressive glare his sister was giving him. Mama was right, DNA didn’t mean much because the look his little sister was giving him was reminiscent of both his mothers without a single gene being shared. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

She grumbled a little bit, looking at the shadows, then finally threw the covers over her head, “Maybe you should turn it off,” she suggested in a tiny voice.

“Okay,” they stared in the dark for a little bit.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think there are serial killers like that around here? Like really around here?”

Brandon hesitated, then put his arm around his little sister, “Well, maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But Mom and my dad are out there putting them away and making sure they don’t hurt people.”

Mariana turned a little in his arms, “Is that what you were thinking about?”

Using the cover of the dark, Brandon shrugged minutely, trying to dislodge the disquieting thoughts so he didn’t scare his sister even more. “Maybe.” Then he grinned, “But Mom’s an awful good shot at the range. And my dad would beat the hell out of anyone that tried to hurt us.”

“That’s true,” Mariana tapped her fingers on the covers. “I don’t really want to think about it. It’s too scary.”

“Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Okay,” Mariana frowned and looked at him again, “Like what?”

Brandon’s smile was a flash of white in the black, “Why didn’t you tell me Joey sent you a love note?”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Jesús sleepily made his way out of the bathroom, but the soft murmur of voices distracted him from the well-worn path back to his bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as he made his way to where the noise was coming from. Brandon’s door clicked opened noisily and the voices stopped. “Hey, what are you guys doing?” Jesús grumped. “It’s the middle of the night. Moms are going to be mad at you.” He stumbled over to Brandon’s bed and sat on the end.

Mariana and Brandon shared a look, “Nothing,” Mariana told her twin.

Jesús rubbed his eyes a little harder. “You better not be doing something fun and leaving me out again.”

Brandon rolled his eyes and poked Mariana in her side, “We shared _one_ chocolate Santa on _one_ Christmas four years ago and he’s never going to let us forget it. We’ll be a hundred and five and he’ll be bitching about it from his wheelchair.” Mariana giggled.

“You shared without me!” Jesús accused them. “We’re sibs. You guys aren’t supposed to have secrets from me,” his lip pushed forward in a pout.

Mariana began to feel bad. It wasn’t fun to feel left out. “We weren’t doing anything fun,” she promised him.

“You were laughing, I heard you,” he said, still only half awake.

Mariana looked at her older brother for a moment, seeing the entreaty in his eyes. “I was scared, so I wanted to see Brandon,” she said, going for a half truth.

“You went to see Brandon, and not me?” Jesús’s feelings were plainly a little hurt.

“Well I..,” Mariana stopped, flustered. Jeez, did both her brothers have to be so darn sensitive?

Jesús woke up a little more and looked between his sister and brother and noticed Brandon biting his lip. “Oh,” he said in sudden acknowledgement, “You weren’t the only one that…” he stopped just as Mariana reached forward and pinched his foot, controlling his mouth with difficulty. The smile slipped off his face as he studied his brother, his earlier guilt coming back to haunt him. He knew Brandon didn’t like horror movies, but he had pushed him into it anyway. “Oh,” he said again, more quietly this time.

Brandon shrugged in embarrassment, and looked away from his brother, fiddling with the flashlight. “Why don’t you go back to bed, Jesús?” he suggested.

Jesús frowned a little, then shook his head as he studied his siblings’ reactions. “Uh-uh,” he said. “I wanna stay with you guys tonight.”

“The bed’s not that big,” Brandon groaned. “It’s not like the ones at hotels we’ve stayed at.”

“So? Shove over,” he told Mariana. Sighing she complied. It was a tight fit but if her brothers tried to sleep next to each other they’d be complaining about kicking and farting on each other all night and they’d never get any sleep.

Brandon wrapped an arm around her, and was unsurprised when Jesús did the same. “You guys want to hear a story?” he asked.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Lena, look at this,” Stef whispered as she busily snapped pictures with her phone.

“What?” Stef nodded to Brandon’s bed, where their children were sacked out like so many bags of potatoes.

“Aww,” said Lena fondly. “They’re getting too big to do that. The boys are practically falling out of the bed.”

“Yeah. Wonder what freaked them out,” Stef said, snapping one more picture. These would become adorable blackmail pictures in the future.

“Probably this,” Lena produced a DVD with flourish.

“Saw? I’m going to kill them.”

Lena rolled her eyes, “I was doing a backpack check on Jesús and I found this, crammed under his binder with about three papers that needed to be signed. We need to check in with his tutor again.”

“So he got Brandon and Mariana to watch a horror movie with him. That ended up as well as I expected it would.”

“Let’s get them up so we can talk to them before we go to school,” said Lena matter-of-factly, tapping the DVD case against her palm.

Stef began to chuckle evilly, heading towards their children with serious intent. “Stef…don’t,” Lena warned.

Stef dropped her arms and pouted at her lover, “Aww, c’mon. That’s what my dad did to me when I saw The Exorcist. He scared me so badly I slept in their room for a month.” She rubbed her chin, “Wait, that’s not a good plan.”

“Let’s try a consequence that doesn’t permanently scar our children, honey,” Lena told her partner with a fond squeeze.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The children traded nervous looks at they sat down to breakfast. Their mothers were definitely on to them. Stef had her spider-contemplating-the-fly look and Lena had a solemn air. The kids groaned unanimously when she lay the DVD on the table.

“Jesús,” hissed Brandon, letting his fork fall to the plate with a clatter.

“You went through my backpack?” Jesús tried to sound insulted as he glared at his mothers.

“We always go through your backpack buddy. Or did you think little elves were organizing all the cr-stuff there?” Stef was amused despite herself.

“I organize! I organize every week. You and Mama make me,” Jesús pouted at his plate.

“Jesús,” Lena’s voice was level, “It takes more then one time a week to organize, we’ve told you that. We need to go back to a daily organization routine.” Jesús groaned and flopped back into his chair, peeking at his siblings apologetically through his fingers.

Brandon concentrated very hard on slicing his turkey sausage with his fork as he tried to ignore the looks he was getting.

Stef picked up the movie, “So, this movie is why you guys didn’t want to go to bed last night, yes?”

“Yes,” mumbled Brandon, since his mom seemed to be drilling him the most with her eyes. He could feel it through the top of his head.

“You know how Mom and I feel about watching these kinds of movies, and you being sneaky to do it was doubly unacceptable,” said Lena, her gaze switching back and forth between her children.

Mariana sniffled and Brandon sighed. “Mariana didn’t want to watch the movie. She was just too scared to move.”

“It was my fault,” Jesús volunteered immediately. “I brought the movie and I begged Brandon to watch it with me. Mariana told us to turn it off.”

Lena and Stef were too kind to roll their eyes. Of course it had happened that way, they knew their children. “Mom and I talked and we decided that no TV for the weekend would be an appropriate punishment,” Lena said, breaking the short silence. Dutiful nods acknowledged the sentence.

Stef cleared her throat after exchanging another glance with her partner, “Mama and I are more disappointed about the sneaking around. Being scared all night is an appropriate consequence for watching a movie you had no business watching. But sneaking around and lying –by omission- ” she clarified when she saw Jesús open his mouth, “Is unacceptable behavior. What do your Mama and I always say about trust?”

“Has to be earned,” the children mumbled in uneasy unison.

“That’s right,” said Lena. “You are going to need to show us, through your actions, that we can trust you to make good choices. Jesús, you knew you shouldn’t have brought the movie into our house in the first place. Mariana, you should have told Mommy and me why you were so scared last night. We could have solved that problem together. Instead, you had trouble sleeping last night. Brandon,” Lena’s eyes settled on the boy, “You are the oldest, and you need to set a good example.”

Stef cleared her throat. “We also need to talk to you alone, bud. Let’s go outside.” With slumped shoulders, Brandon followed them out.

Mariana and Jesús concentrated on their plates as they scooped up eggs and toast, their eyes not meeting. “You got Brandon in trouble,” Mariana accused her twin finally. “You and your stupid movie.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jesús retorted quickly.

“Wow, that’s a big help,” muttered Mariana as she slid off her chair and went to the window. Brandon was facing her and from the look on his face, she could tell that the lecture he was getting was unpleasant.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“…Brandon, you told us you were responsible enough to baby-sit the twins. Mom and I believed that too. This incident makes us seriously reconsider that,” Lena’s tone betrayed her disappointment.

“We know it was Jesús’s idea to watch the movie, but you are the big brother here, love. You have to be able to make better decisions,” Stef tapped his chin, indicating that she wanted him to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” Brandon muttered.

Lena sighed. “Mom and I think this might be too much responsibility for you right now. We can ask Cathy to come back and look after you guys.”

Brandon looked at them imploringly. “But I’m twelve! I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Your actions yesterday tell us that isn’t true,” said Stef bluntly.

Unwillingly, Brandon felt tears prick his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can be more responsible. I can look after the twins. I swear.” He watched as his mothers communicated with their eyes. “ _Please_ , give me another chance. I promise I won’t mess up again.”

“You’re allowed to mess up Brandon,” Lena’s voice was more gentle now, “You’re still a kid, but when you have a responsibility for others, you have to be more careful. That’s just the way it is. It’s also our job as your mothers to make sure that those mistakes don’t turn into something bigger.”

“I’ll be more careful. I promise. Please. Mom,” he looked at her, “Mama,” his gaze switched as he waited for their judgment.

Stef sighed a little, “Alright. We’ll give you another chance, but just one. If you are taking care of your brother and sister you need to be extra-responsible, no matter the circumstances.”

“I will.”

Lena leaned over to give him a hug, and he let himself rest there a moment, then turned to his Mom for a hug. She kissed his head. “C’mon. Let’s go back to the kitchen before the twins think we’ve sold you to a travelling circus.”

Brandon could see his sister watching him from the window and he gave her a thumb’s up. “You’d miss me if I were gone,” he stated confidently.

“Always buddy.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“You want my gum Brandon?” Jesús asked anxiously as they plodded down the sidewalk. A meeting at the central office and an early morning roll call for Stef had necessitated that the children walk to school.

“I’ll take watermelon if you have it,” said Brandon, accepting the peace offering easily.

Jesús grinned happily as he dug out a piece. “You can have more if you want it. Later I mean.”

“That’s cool,” Brandon unwrapped the gum and pocketed the wrapper, feeling the flavor burst on his tongue.

“Hey! Danny’s up there!” said Jesús pointing wildly. “I’m gonna go walk with him, ok?”

“Sure,” said Brandon with a shrug.

Jesús shifted his backpack as he looked at his siblings, “So I guess I’ll see you guys later?”

“Uh-huh,” Brandon smiled at Jesús’s eager expression.

“Duh, we live together,” said Mariana, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Jesús said. He punched Brandon on the shoulder and tugged Mariana’s braid. “See ya!”

Brandon and Mariana walked a little farther, in silence. Mariana looked at her brother side-long, then sighed, “I’m sorry you got in trouble.”

“We all got in trouble,” Brandon reminded her, swinging his lunch box a little as they walked.

“You know what I mean, Brandon,” Mariana said.

“Yeah,” he stopped a minute to look at her. She was dressed in a pink flare skirt and lavender shirt with sparkles. Because of her size, she was often mistaken for a much younger child, and he felt a affectionate smile tug at his lips. “You were right, I was being stupid yesterday. I should’ve turned off the movie.”

“Well…yeah,” she said. “But I understand why you didn’t.”

He threw an arm around and gave a quick hug around her shoulders before letting her go. “You’re a good sister Mariana,” he said.

Mariana looked down, a blush forming on her face. This was rare praise from her brother, out in the open, where anyone could hear them. “Thanks,” she said awkwardly. Then she shrugged his arm off, going for a cool tone, “About time you realized it.”

“I won’t forget again,” he gave her a little grin and walked off.

 


	19. The Cat Question Pt. 1

“What are you hiding Jesús?” Mariana asked, peering interestedly around his shoulder.

“Nothing!” he used an elbow to shove her away. Mariana stumbled a little, then a frown settled over her elfin features as she took a running start to shove her brother to the side. With a startled yelp, Jesús skittered to the side, landing on his elbow. “Hey!”

She looked down at him, smiling in a superior fashion, “You should have just told me what you were hiding,” she said. She grasped the cardboard box he had been holding and pulled it out from under the shelf in the garage where it had been stowed. “Aww, a kitty!” she squealed in delight. “Jesús, where did you find her?”

“It’s a him,” said Jesús, trying to sound imperious as he scrambled to his feet. “I’ve been feeding him tuna for the last two weeks. He really likes it.” He paused for a breath, then spoke again, “He doesn’t like milk though, which is weird. I thought all cats liked milk.”

Mariana reached a hand out tentatively to pet the cat, then withdrew it cautiously, looking at her brother with some concern. “He doesn’t bite, does he?”

“He doesn’t bite _me_ ,” said Jesús smugly. At his sister’s slightly crestfallen expression, his face grew more kind. “He won’t bite you. He likes being petted.”

The little girl began petting the cat with gentle strokes. “He’s so pretty! Is he black all over? Even his tummy and his paws?”

Jesús nodded, “Uh-huh. Aren’t his eyes cool? They’re green, just like the fake kitties we see on Halloween stuff.”

Mariana giggled when the cat rubbed his cheek roughly on her hand and rumbled out a satisfying string of purrs. “Oh, we gotta show Brandon!”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Brandon laughed with delight as the cat licked the can of tuna, pushing is along the ground with a harsh scraping noise as it tried to get every bit of the delicious, fishy treat.

“What’s his name?” he asked his brother, pushing a lock of his brown hair away from his eyes.

“Puddy Tat,” said Jesús, thrusting out his chest with obvious pride.

His siblings dissolved into giggles. “That’s an awesome name,” said Brandon with honest admiration when his giggles stopped. “Here Puddy, c’mon Puddy,” he cajoled from his seated position on the garage floor.

“No come to me, Puddy,” Mariana pleaded in her sweetest voice. “I give the best scratchies ever, don’t I, Don’t I Puddy Tat?” she wheedled.

“You’re both crazy,” said Jesús. “Puddy Tat loves me the best. I’m the one that found him. I’m the one that’s been feeding him.”

Brandon and Mariana traded a meaningful look. “You’re right Jesús,” said the nine-year-old, in his best approximation of Lena’s calm tones. “Puddy Tat is your cat. Mariana and I just want to pet him and stuff sometimes.”

Immediately mollified, Jesús thrust the cat into Mariana’s arms. “You guys can pet him all you want. I don’t mind sharing. Really!”

Mariana grinned as she cuddled the cat. “How’re we going to get him in the house?” she asked her brothers.

Jesús immediately fixed his brother with a pleading look, “You can figure it out, right Brandon? I really, really want Puddy to stay in my bedroom with me.”

His brother frowned, reaching across Mariana to rub the cat’s ears, “Uh, I don’t know, Jesús,” he said. “Mom doesn’t really like cats.”

“She doesn’t?” he asked in a small voice.

Brandon’s pats on the cat grew further apart as he pondered the problem. “Maybe we can do it. But we have to get Mama on board first. If she agrees, she’ll help convince Mom.”

“Mama will say yes,” said Mariana, he arms clutching the cat protectively. “I know she will.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The kid’s campaign to Lena wasn’t the most subtly or eloquent, but the yearning look on Jesús face, the hopeful smile on Mariana’s face, and the silent messages Brandon seemed to be trying to send her, melted any sort of resolve she might have had.

“You would have to take care of him,” she said, looking at Jesús meaningfully. “You would need to be responsible without having Mommy or me reminding you all the time.”

“I would,” Jesús said instantly, clearly not thinking through his response for one moment, “I promise.”

“We’d look out for Puddy too,” Mariana piped up, indicating herself and Brandon. He in turn, sighed a little, but nodded when his gaze lighted on his little brother’s pleading look.

“Alright. I’m not promising anything, and we would still have a lot to talk about, but I will speak with Mommy about it tonight.”

“Maybe you should wait till she’d had a beer and relaxed a little,” said Brandon.

Lena frowned a little, unhappy that he’d made that particular connection. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brandon backpedaled a little, hearing the censure in her tone, “Nothing,”

Before she could pursue _that_ line of conversation, Jesús interrupted, his whole practically quivering with eagerness. “But you’ll talk to her, right Mama? And you’ll try to convince her that Puddy’s gonna be a very, very good pet. And he’ll be mostly my pet but I’ll share him with Mariana and Brandon sometimes too. Oh, and you and Mom too. And you’ll tell her how great cats are, right? Because they purr and cuddle with you and they even bring their dead mice to you. My friend David says that his cat is even able to kill squirrels!”

“That should be an interesting conversation,” said Brandon brightly from the counter as he unconsciously played with the salt shaker.

Mariana looked between her mothers and brothers and began to giggle at the sudden look of consternation on her mother’s face.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“No.”

“That isn’t actually discussing things Stef.”

“I completely understand that, but I’m going with my original answer. No.”

Lena sighed in exasperation. “The kids have been asking about a pet for a long time. We told them we’d think about it.”

“I did think about it. I thought about how much trouble it would be to have three kids and a pet,” Stef looked like she was trying to retain a good-humored tone, but it was spoiled by her scowl.

Lena pursed her lips as she examined her lover. Stef was dressed in her pajamas, a comfortable, old pair that she particularly loved. Her face was shiny and had a faint reddish tinge from where she scrubbed it with a washcloth a little too hard. That, coupled with her hair laying in soft waves that framed her face and the pout on her lips made her appear almost adolescent.  Lena beckoned to her and Stef threw herself onto the bed beside her. Lena gently rubbed her back and tried to switch tactics. “Didn’t you have a dog when you were growing up?” she asked, knowing full well that was the case.

“Ye-es,” said Stef slowly, melting a little bit as her partner rubbed the stress out of her aching back. “Which reminds me, why does Jesús want a cat anyway? Shouldn’t he be begging for some dog?”

“That’s just what we want in this house, honey,” said Lena dryly, “Gender stero-typing,” she didn’t resist the urge to lightly pinch her lover’s arm, then resumed her back rub.

“I’m not doing that!” Stef claimed instantly. “I just thought…” she frowned and mumbled something incomprehensible into the covers.

Deciding to take the high road, Lena tried to move the conversation along. “What was the best part of having a dog?”

Stef rolled on her back, halting the back rub to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it. Gruffy was just…always there I guess. I hardly have any childhood memory that doesn’t have him in it. I played with him, watched cartoons with him…I even tried to let him sleep in my bed but my mom always kicked him out,” she smiled faintly at the memory of her mother’s exasperation snd her own honest amazement that her mother had caught her, _once again._

“We couldn’t have a pet,” said Lena thoughtfully, “Not one with fur anyway. Dad was always so allergic and Mom thought they’d be too much of a mess anyway.”

Stef propped her head on her hand and looked at her partner, “Do you want a pet? I mean, for you?” she clarified, when Lena opened her mouth to respond.

Lena hesitated, “I think a pet would be nice for everyone,” she said carefully, then glanced at Stef’s open expression, “And I do think it would be fun,” she admitted quietly.

“Well…” Stef’s resolve and face were softening at a remarkable rate. Saying “no” to her kids wasn’t terribly hard. Unlike some parents, Stef didn’t believe in spoiling her children and with the income she and Lena made, she felt confident in being able to supply them with more than enough. Her lover was another matter. Lena hardly asked for anything. Her extraordinarily generous nature was one of the things Stef loved about her, but it also meant that she denied herself things _she_ wanted. Stef may not be able to give her a ring, or wedding vows, but she could damn well give her everything else. However, appearances still needed to be maintained. She heaved a sigh so big it was as if a tornado had been let loose within the room. “I guess we could give the cat a trial run,” she said slowly, eyeing Lena from under her lashes. “If everything goes okay we could talk about actually…keeping it.”

“Keeping him,” Lena said, a smile curving at the corner of her mouth at her partner’s acquiescence.

“Nuh-uh,” said Stef firmly. “The first thing we’re doing is getting that cat fixed. I do not want to be hip deep in kittens next week.”

“I don’t think feline breeding follows at quite that rate,” Lena said wryly as she picked up Stef’s arm and curled it around herself.

“I don’t care,” Stef mumbled sleepily into her lover’s neck. “The cat gets neutered or it’s no deal.”

“Deal,” said Lena softly, gazing at her partner who once started, would rapidly succumb to sleep. “You’ve made your family very happy, Stef,” she murmured. Stef snored in response.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

In retrospect, many years later, Lena could admit to herself that taking the kids with her to the vet’s office had been a bad idea. Puddy Tat had not taken well to the cat carrier, and his frenzied meows had led the children to beg for his release.

“It’s like he’s in jail,” said Mariana piteously, “And he didn’t do anything wrong. Please Mama, let him out!”

“No Mariana,” said Lena, keeping her voice calm as she signaled to turn. “Puddy needs to stay in the cat carrier. We cannot have him jumping all around the car, it would be dangerous.”

“He wouldn’t jump around the car because I’d be holding him,” Jesús whined. He had been repeating variations of this particular mantra for the last ten minutes.

“Or he’d have scratched your arms up trying to get away,” said Brandon as he flipped through a new Hardy Boys book he was reading with casual indifference.

“He would not!” said Jesús instantly defensive. “He doesn’t scratch!”

At that complete fabrication, Brandon actually lowered his book to look incredulously at his little brother, “I mean not very much,” said Jesús a little quelled by his brother’s meaningful stare. He was suddenly reminded of a couch cushion that bore the marks of the application of a certain feline’s claws. It had been Brandon’s suggestion to turn the cushion over but mostly, “To stop Mom from making Puddy into a rug.”

“We’re here,” breathed Lena thankfully. “Brandon, Jesús, no more fighting. Mariana, Puddy’s going to be fine so you can stop crying. Now let’s get this done so we can get home and have dinner.”

The examination went fine. Puddy was given a clean bill of health. The kids were relatively well-behaved, and the veterinarian was a kindly woman who laughed off the mess when Jesús accidentally spilled a jar of dog treats sitting on the counter, then crunched them beneath his feet as he tried to pick them up. Everything was going fine until they were back in the reception area. As the kids looked curiously at the animals around them, Lena settled the bill.

“Hm,” said the dark-haired receptionist as she looked at her computer. “It says we had a cancellation, and it looks like we can get Puddy in here on Thursday to get neutered.”

“Oh,” Lena pulled out her Palm Pilot and rapidly scrolled through it, “That might work, let me just check…”

Jesús tugged on his brother’s shirt. “What’s neuter mean, Brandon?”

With a smirk that was equal parts superiority and mischief, Brandon dragged his brother closer and cupped his hand around his ear. It took less  than five seconds.

“Mama!” howled Jesús in outrage, “You can’t let them cut Puddy’s balls off!” Every head in the office turned to look at the face of the rapidly reddening child. “I mean…You…you can’t. Mama, its his _balls_!”

“Jesús!” Lena hissed through tight lips. “Stop saying that word! Brandon, take the twins to the car, right now!” she shoved the keys at her eldest.

She managed to make it with the car without further embarrassment (although she had to endure the glares of a couple of grandmotherly looking women) and tucked the cat carrier in the back where Puddy began his monotonous meowing once again. The kids were silent, watching her with wide eyes so she turned to face them with an exasperated sigh. “Brandon,” she began, zeroing in on his slightly guilty expression.

“He started yelling!” Brandon defended himself immediately.

“You told me they were going to cut his balls off!” Jesús returned quickly.

“I didn’t-I mean,” Brandon looked at Lena. “I told him that to neuter Puddy, the vet was going to have to cut his testicles off. And then Jesús said, ‘What are testicles?’ and I said…I said,” he floundered, then looked at Lena with mortification, “Well, what else do I call them if I don’t call them testicles?” He scowled and gave Jesús a little shove. “I didn’t tell him to yell it though. “You’re not supposed to say that in front of girls…I mean women,” he said hurriedly with another glance at Lena. “Girls and women,” he amended.

Jesús looked at Lena plaintively, so worried that he didn’t even respond to his brother’s shove. “You’re not gonna let them cut of his b-testicles, are you Mama? ‘Cause that’s not right.”

“Why?” piped Mariana from her quiet position on the end.

Jesús looked at his sister and reddened slightly, “C-Cause then he won’t have babies,” he mumbled into his hands.

“He won’t?” now the plaintive expression on Mariana’s face matched her brother’s. “But Mama, what if he want to be a daddy someday?”

A small knot formed in Lena’s throat at she looked at the earnest little faces. She took a breath, willing herself to think and speak carefully. “Puddy may want to be a daddy,” she said. “But cats can have a lot of babies, and when there are too many babies there aren’t always enough…homes...and,” she stuttered to a stop, looking at the twins with a tender expression. “It’s just not fair to the kitties,” she finished softly. “It won’t hurt Puddy, at least not for long,” she amended with an inward wince, unable to lie to her children. “He’ll be as good as new and ready to play, before you know it.”

“Oh,” Jesús sat back, seemingly satisfied by the answer, although the faint frown on his face didn’t readily disappear.

Mariana looked thoughtful as she intently studied the pale, pink nail polish her mother had applied to her fingernails. Lena sighed a little as she started the car. She had certainly not planned to have this particular conversation with her children today. One of the hardest things to get use to with children was their unpredictability. You could plan, you could even try to predict their responses, but in the end, random chance would always win out. Most days, that unpredictability could lead to laughter…or an interesting discussion, but other days…

“Mama?”

“Yes Jesús?”

“What are they going to do with his testicles after they cut them off?”

Other days it would just led to headaches.


	20. The Cat Question Pt. 2

Once Puddy had recovered from his operation, life settled into a routine in the Adams-Fosters household. Or rather a new routine.

“That cat hates me,” Stef announced at breakfast one morning. A bunch of paper towels were balled in her hand as she dabbed at the hairball on the floor. “The cat hates me,” she announced again in a louder voice, in case her loving family had decided to try and ignore her.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you wanted his testicles to be chopped off,” volunteered Jesús as milk dribbled from his spoon onto his clean shirt.

“I can see why he’d be mad,” Brandon agreed with a mischievous smile at his brother.

“Bleh,” Stef muttered as she stood up and dropped the disgusting mess into the trash. She washed her hands vigorously at the sink and turned to face her sons. “Neutering, is a perfectly normal action when you have a pet,” she informed them. “This city does not need anymore unwanted animals, I can tell you that.” The boys identical shrugs stated that they clearly didn’t care. Kittens were cute. “Besides,” Stef muttered as she turned to scan the yard outside from the window, frowning when her eyes landed on the inky, black feline, “Since the creature has actual spines in his penis he’s lucky we didn’t just cut it off.”

“Who has spines on his penis?” asked Mariana, appearing out of thin air. Stef looked down, startled, then narrowed her eyes. _Every man in the world_ she thought as she looked down at her precious, not-yet-dating-or-interested-in-boys-daughter.

“Stef,” warned Lena as she entered the kitchen, loaded down with the kids’ backpacks.

Stef’s eyes widened, By G-d, the woman really could read her mind. “Never mind,” she told Mariana as she glanced around the kitchen. Luckily, both boys had disappeared and hadn’t heard her comment. “Go get your brush and I’ll take care of your hair,” she added. Mariana merrily skipped out of the room.

“The cat hates me,” Stef informed her partner pathetically.

“More hairballs?” Lena asked without sympathy as she rummaged through Jesús’s backpack and checked through his papers.

“This wasn’t just a hairball,” said Stef earnestly. “It was a blob of such gigantic proportions, that the stupid cat must have unhinged his jaws to expel it.”

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you exaggerate so much Stef,” said Lena patiently as she signed a form and returned it to their son’s  backpack.

“I’m not exaggerating Lena, you should see this thing! It would probably be considered a planet…or at least a dwarf planet,” Stef insisted.

Lena sighed noisily as she walked over to her partner and stroked her cheek lovingly. “I know you’ve had your share of hairballs,” she began.

“My share? Lena, that cat only hacks up furballs in front of me. I’ve picked up every furball that cat has puked up.”

“Oh, Stef, that’s not true. I mean, just last week I,” Lena frowned. “Well on that one Thursday,” she stopped again, then looked at her lover with consternation on her face. “Have you really picked up every furball?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Stef, gratified that her partner was finally taking her seriously. “Every. Single. Time. I swear, hon, the cat hates me.”

Lena bit her lip in that adorable way that made Stef want to kiss her, momentarily distracting her from her tirade. “I’ll take care of it honey. I promise, next time there’s a hairball, I will take care of it.”

“No,” Stef faltered as she continued to gaze at her lover’s lips. “I don’t want you to do that. I just want…” _To get rid of that stupid cat_ her mind finished, but the hopeful look on her partner’s face made her sigh. “I just want it to stop. You don’t think it’s sick, do you?” This encouraging thought almost made her smile.

“Oh, not at all,” Lena said. “Puddy got a clean bill of health at the vet’s last week. He’s as healthy as can be.”

“Oh,” said Stef, masking her disappointment. That was easy to do because in the next moment, Lena was moving into her and kissing her with easy passion. “Mmmm,” Stef sighed happily.

Lena separated a little, giving her another quick kiss. “When you finish Mariana’s hair, can you see if I wrote a check for the PTA last night? I meant to but now I’m not sure that I did.”

“Sure,” said Stef.

Mariana barreled into the kitchen with a giggling Jesús behind her. “Mama, Mommy, help! He’s gonna tickle me,” Mariana shrieked amidst her giggles.

“Alright mister,” Lena said, corralling the little boy as he tried to dodge her outstretched arms. “It’s time to organize your binder and backpack. We have five minutes. Let’s get going!”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“The cat hates me.”

Lena groaned from under the pillows where she had buried herself. “NnnmmmSss,” she mumbled.

“It hates me!” Stef fumed, slapping the floor with her open hand.

Lena pushed the pillows aside as if they had personally insulted her. “Stef, the cat does not hate you, it just…”

Stef stalked over to her, her shiny black work shoes in hand. She thrust them near Lena’s head. “That damn cat pissed on my shoes.”

“What?” Lena rubbed her eyes blearily, then pushed herself away from the shoes so fast that she nearly fell out of bed. “Oh my, G-d, Stef, get them away from me.”

“It pissed in my shoes! All over my shoes!” Stef was so angry that the words were practically strangled.

“Honey,” Lena sat herself up, the strap of her nightshirt falling appealingly to the side as she raised her hands in supplication, “I’m sure that Puddy didn’t mean to pee on your shoes. I read that sometimes, when cats are getting use to the litter boxes that…”

“No Lena,” Stef interrupted, and took a deep breath, “That cat deliberately pissed on my shoes,” she ignored Lena’s wince at her language. “It did the same thing to my tennis shoes yesterday, and it did the same thing to my slippers two days ago. It is going into our closet, finding my shoes, and pissing all over them.”

“Stef,” now Lena was beginning to get irritated, “Do you know how that even sounds?” She rolled out of bed and walked over to the closet.

“Yes I know how that sounds,” Stef parroted. “That doesn’t make it less true. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to bug you or have you…have you take it’s side…”

“Honey…”

“But this cat is peeing all over my stuff and I cannot deal with it, Lena. If you want to keep the cat you have to figure out a way to make it stop because I,” Stef shook her head, “I just can’t handle it.” She stomped into their bathroom and slammed the door.

Stef through her shoes into a basin they had stored under the sink and ran it under the tap to fill it with warm, sudsy water. “Un-fucking believable,” she muttered under her breath. “Three pairs of – _three_ pairs of fucking shoes.” She swore colorfully to herself for at least three solid minutes before she began calming down. “Unbelievable,” she muttered to her mirror image, but without the vitriol she had used before.

The doorknob twisted and Lena padded inside. She reached around and hugged Stef from behind, laying her head on her lover’s back. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish you would have told me what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I wouldn’t have listened to you about Puddy.”

Stef felt about two inches tall. She didn’t want her lover to feel guilty. She just wanted that damn cat out of her house. She turned quickly so that Lena was in her arms. “I’m sorry too, love,” she mumbled into Lena’s hair. “I know it’s not your fault. But he peed in the shoes, and they smell so bad I think I’m going to have to get rid of them, and I have that early morning meeting today and I just…”

Lena surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. For several minutes they stood, fused together as they traded soft kisses and nuzzled. Lena pulled Stef’s hips closer to her and she leaned into her, her thin pajama pants able to discern the palpable warmth that was her lover’s center. “I’ll deal with the shoes,” she said calmly, nipping at Stef’s lower lip. “You have an extra pair of work shoes at the station, right?” Stef nodded, closing her eyes when she felt Lena’s lips on her neck. “I’ll take care of the shoes,” Lena said again, “And you take care of me,” she breathed into Stef’s ear.

Stef was a little late to her meeting and she didn’t even care.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Mama, look at this trick Puddy can do!” Jesús exclaimed excitedly. “Look! Look!”

Lena turned and watched as Puddy balanced on his hind legs, and jumped for the treat that Jesús held between his fingers. She smiled at her proud son. “That’s great sweetheart! That’s really amazing. Did you teach him how to do that?”

Jesús nodded excitedly. “No he didn’t,” interrupted Mariana. “Puddy could do that before.”

“Nu-uh, Mariana!” said Jesús. “Before he just jumped, now he jumps for a treat.”

Mariana rolled her eyes and Lena frowned at her and shook her head. Mariana pouted a little, but then sighed, “Good job, Jesús.”

“Thanks,” Jesús responded, not noticing or choosing not to notice the half-hearted response.

“Hello Family,” said Stef, throwing her keys onto the counter followed by a somewhat sullen Brandon. It had not escaped his mothers’ notice, that Brandon had been considerably less excited about his father’s visits. When asked, he just mumbled about “Dad’s new _girlfriend_.” Stef had decided to pick Brandon up a little early under the guise that he hadn’t been feeling well lately so she could meet the woman.

Lena raised her eyebrows, and Stef rolled her eyes. _Oh boy_ Lena thought.

Brandon had regained his usual good humor by the time dinner was over and pleased Jesús by being much more enthusiastic then Mariana had been over Puddy’s new trick. The children piled outside after dinner, deciding to try and make their own mini-circus with Puddy being the main act.

“What happened?” asked Lena, as soon as the door had closed. “What is she like?”

Stef groaned as she gathered the dishes. “Oh my G-d, Lena, you would not believe it. First of all, she looks like she’s still in high school. We have babysitters older then her. I swear.”

Lena rolled her eyes and bit back a snarky response. She and Mike were doing better now, but there were still a lot of things they didn’t see eye-to-eye on. He was a good father, she reminded herself, but sometimes his choices were questionable. However, she was determined that she wasn’t going to be the kind of person who always badmouthed the ex, so she practiced keeping her mouth shut, even when it was just her and Stef. “And?”

“She’s a pet psychic.”

“What?” Lena dropped one of the forks, and looked at Stef’s face to make sure she wasn’t kidding.”

Stef returned her look. “No, I swear, a pet psychic.”

Lena wanted to find something to do quickly, because she was feeling the overwhelming desire to giggle. She gathered up the cloth napkins quickly but she felt the laughter bubble out anyway. “A pet psychic?”

“Yes!” Stef was so incredulous she wasn’t even paying attention to her partner’s actions. “Not only that, but apparently, she has a solution to our cat problem,” she dropped the dishes long enough to make air quotes

Lena sobered a little, Stef was still pretty touchy about Puddy. “Yeah?”

“She said Brandon had told her about Puddy, and she told me that Puddy was actually Cleopatra in a former life.” Stef left the dishes in the sink and moved closer to her partner, placing a hand on her hip, her blue eyes dancing with sudden glee, “And the reason Puddy doesn’t like me…is because I’m too dominant.”

Lena tried to cover her mouth but the giggles escaped anyway. “Really?”

Stef tried to maintain her stern façade, but a smile creased the corners of her mouth. “Yeah. Apparently I’m supposed to show the little bastard my belly.”

“I think that’s dogs honey,” said Lena, giving her a frown for the language.

“Whatever,” Stef sighed dramatically as she threw her arms in the air. “At least now we know the cat’s problem,” she said dryly. “Now we can finally do something about it.”

Lena stepped into her space, and reached around her to drag her closer by the loops of her pants, “Well, you are pretty dominant,” she purred.

“Yeah?” Stef’s grin grew a little more salacious and she leaned in to kiss her lover.

“Uh-huh,” Lena mumbled. “I don’t think Cleopatra would be upset though,” she leaned back a little and fingered one of Stef’s buttons, undoing it as if she had a gift of magic.

“Yeah?” Stef was getting a little breathless, and she felt the air hit the skin between her breasts as her bra was uncovered.

Lena shook her head and let her fingers run over the smooth skin, watching with great interest as Stef swallowed hard. “Nope.” Her hand moved lower.

“The kid’s are busy,” Stef said, taking a quick glance outside, her voice a little husky, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Lena grinned.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

“She’s always there,” complained Brandon. “Every time I see Dad, she’s either there or she decides to “stop by”. She acts like its an accident but its not.”

“Maybe she just wants to get to know you,” said Mariana from the other side of the table where she was trying to finish her math homework.

“I don’t think so,” Brandon scowled, holding his pencil between his fingers, “She always looks like she’s surprised to see me or something. Every Thursday, it’s like, _Oh Brandon, I forgot it’s your guy’s night_! and then she does this stupid little laugh,” Brandon mimicked the noise, sounding like a chipmunk on speed. Jesús began laughing so hard he choked on his gum. Brandon absently patted him on the back. “I mean, I know she’s got issues, but even she can figure out the days of the week,” he grumbled.

“That’s not nice, Brandon,” Mariana warned him, sounding a lot like her mama.

“She’s a pet psychic, Mariana, MIT isn’t exactly knocking down her doors,” Brandon said, rolling his eyes.

“Brandon Michael,” Lena warned as she walked into the kitchen, hearing the last part of the conversation, “I don’t want to hear you say that again.”

“But Mama,” Brandon whined, “She…” his voice trailed off as he was given a stern look. He looked down at his science homework and fiddled with his pencil again. “ _Mom_ said she’s as dumb as a box of rocks,” he mumbled resentfully as he filled out the worksheet.

Stef, who had been following her partner to the kitchen abruptly turned and went back to the living room. “Traitor,” she muttered. She was pretty sure her little progeny hadn’t meant to sell her out, but she was certainly going to be hearing about _this_.

“Stef,” predictably, Lena stormed into the living room. “How many times I have told you? Little pitchers! They hear everything!”

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Stef raised her arms. “I am. I mean…it’s true, but I shouldn’t have said it where the kids could hear.”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all,” Lena said unforgivingly.

“Well...,” Stef sighed then shrugged. “I just can’t do that. What I think, I say.”

Lena scowled a little, “Do you even try?”

“She’s a pet psychic Lena,” Stef said, trying not to roll her eyes at the ludicrousness of the situation. “She talks to animals. As a _career_.”

Lena twisted her hair up and gave Stef a look that meant they would still be talking about this later. “I’m going to make dinner,” she managed to make it sound like a threat.

Stef sighed, just great.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef knew instantly her ex-husband was upset as he shouldered through the front door, pushing their son in front of him. “Brandon is grounded,” he said flatly, glaring at the little boy who was nervously twisting his hands in his pockets even as he tried to look blasé.

“What happened?” Stef sighed as she sent a significant look at her son.

“Tell your mom what happened,” Mike ordered, putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t know what the big deal is,” Brandon said sulkily, but he edged a little closer to the stairs.

“You don’t know…” Mike started towards him and Brandon hopped up the first step.

“I just…” Brandon stumbled a little as he tried to act braver then he was feeling. “I mean, she’s a pet psychic. I thought she’d like any kind of creature.”

“What. Happened?” Stef asked firmly.

Brandon looked at her, looked at his dad, and dropped his head. “I-put-a-mouse-in-Barbara’s-purse,” he mumbled quickly.

“You what?” Stef demanded.

Her son squared his jaw a little and looked mutinously at his father. “I gave her a mouse. How was I supposed to know she didn’t speak Mickey?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Mike announced, heading for their son. This time Brandon made it half-way up the steps.

“Mike, just hold on a second. Brandon, go to your room, right now. I am not kidding around with you.”

Brandon disappeared so fast his sneakers practically left smoke. Mike rubbed his head. “I swear to G-d Stef, Barbara screamed so loud, I thought she was going to shatter glass.”

Stef willed herself not to smile at this image. “I’m sorry Mike. I think Brandon’s having a tough time sharing you right now,” she offered.

“That doesn’t excuse…”

“No, I know it doesn’t, and I agree he should be grounded.”

Mike look mollified, then looked up the stairway. “I think I’m gonna let him stew for awhile,” he decided. “I need to get back to the apartment. Maybe see if I can get Barbara to talk to me again.”

Stef hoped her nod seemed sympathetic, but she had to refrain from rolling her eyes a little. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure he know he needs to apologize to both of you.”

Mike shook his head a little, “Where did he get a mouse anyway?”

Stef’s eyes narrowed on the black cat, slinking its way upstairs, “I’m pretty sure I know where,” she said.

 


	21. The Cat Question Pt. 3

Although apologies were given, no significant remorse was displayed by their eldest. If fact, over the last three days, one of the mothers would inevitably find three dark little heads bent in quiet conspiracy, only to be interrupted by peals of laughter as faux screams were emulated.

Stef looked at her children, then spun a chair and sat on it, bracing her forearms on the back as she cleared her throat significantly. Brandon looked up as he placed the rest of the Payday game pieces on the board from where he, Mariana, and Jesús were playing. “Yeah Mom?”

“We need to talk,” Stef gave a jerk of her head to indicate the couch cushions in front of her.

The twins looked up curiously but at Stef’s raised brow, turned back to the game. “We’ll do your turn until you come back, Brandon,” Jesús volunteered.

“You roll for me,” mouthed Brandon to his sister. He was pretty sure Jesús would take advantage of the situation if he weren’t there. Mariana nodded in response as she grabbed the dice from her twin.

Stef cleared her throat, “We need to talk about what happened,” she began, knowing that he would understand what she was talking about.

Brandon pursed his lips and ran his hands up and down his jeans. “I told you Mom,” he said, voice earnest. “After I saved the mouse from Puddy, I thought the poor thing might have PST-”.

“PTSD,” Stef interrupted dryly.

“Uh-huh,” Brandon nodded angelically, “And I figured he’d need someone to talk to. Isn’t that what pet psychics do?” This last part was said archly, searching his mother’s eyes for the humor he’d seen glinting in them when she first heard of the situation.

Stef narrowed her eyes, “Brandon,” she enquired mildly, “Do you really expect us to believe that?”

The little boy hesitated, then nodded somewhat uncertainly, “Yes?”

“Buddy,” Stef said with great deliberation, “I am _not_ the pet psychic,” from her son’s widening grin and the giggles from the twins, Stef realized instantly that she had made a mistake. “What I mean,” she said rapidly, hoping Lena wouldn’t get wind of this particular lapse, “Is that I know when you’re lying, and I am not happy about it.”

“Mom…”

“Mama is especially unhappy,” Stef said, watching Brandon’s face falter a moment. Lena, in fact, was not pleased at all and had voiced her feelings vociferously when she found Stef chuckling about it the other night. By the end of her speech, Stef was nodding, albeit reluctantly. Her lover’s final, “Fix it,” had indicated the level of her displeasure. “She thinks that you would benefit from the We Are Friends group at school.”

The smile had completely disappeared from Brandon’s face at the end of that sentence and he looked at her with consternation, “What?”

“Yes,” said Stef, enjoying the quiet panic that was flitting across his face, “They work on kindness and empathy, from what I understand.”

“Oh, I know those kids. They made friendship Cootie Catchers last week and if you chose an activity, that’s the one they had to play with you,” Jesús shot his brother an evil smile. He had thankfully dodged that bullet when it had been suggested for him last year.

“I know them too!” said Mariana, “They wore blue t-shirts on the first day of school that said, I am a great helper and it had big star on the front and on the back and they got to help all the teachers and kids and everyone.”

It took nearly all of Stef’s self-control not to laugh at the unmitigated horror on her eldest’s face. Mariana was genuinely trying to help while Jesús was obviously intent on torturing his brother. Either way, it was absolutely perfect.

“Mom!” Brandon tugged sharply on her sleeve, bringing her attention back to him, “You can’t do this to me.”

“They work on positive behaviors,” Stef rolled on, ignoring her son, “Maybe that would do you some good.”

“Mom. Mommy. No,” Brandon insisted. “Please don’t make me go there.”

“Why?” his mother asked, egging him on.

“The kids…the kids…they can – like - only speak in I-messages.”

Stef began to smirk, “So?”

“They have to give….put-ups to all the other kids in the group. At the beginning and end of every session,” Brandon’s voice grew a little more frantic.

“Sounds…very positive,” said Stef, her smile growing wider.

“Mommy. They sing.”

“You like music.”

“Not Free to Be You and Me!” Brandon hopped onto her lap to face her, eyes serious. “Mommy, I promise…promise I won’t do that again. Just…please don’t make me go! You can ground me for another week or anything but please, _please_ not that!”

Stef sighed theatrically and moved until they were forehead to forehead. “I don’t know buddy, I think that’s up to Mama now.”

He looked at her helplessly for a millisecond then bellowed, “MAMA!!!”

Stef winced, “Ow, bud. That was right in my ear.” He ignored her as he scrambled out of her lap, continuing to yell for Lena as he ran up the stairs.

She was still chuckling as she plopped herself besides the twins. “I’ll play for your brother,” she told them, “He’s going to be gone for awhile.”

“What’s wrong with Brandon?” asked Mariana, genuinely baffled.

“A little bit of motherly retribution,” Stef sighed happily, as she rearranged her piles of money. “Did I ever tell you guys that your Mama is brilliant?”

“All the time,” grumbled Jesús, turning back to the game.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

It wasn’t the first mouse, or even the second mouse that bothered Stef, it was the fourth mouse that did it. She grabbed a pair of gloves and removed the mouse from its final resting place, wrapping it in a plastic bag and throwing it in the trash bin outside. “There was another one,” she told her partner ominously after washing her hands and returning to the kitchen.

There was a slight hesitation, then Lena peeked at sidewise as she typed busily on her computer. “Another mouse?” she asked.

“Yes Lena, another mouse,” Stef said, biting off the words as she leaned against the counter.

Another hesitation, “Was it, ummmmm, in the same place?”

“You mean was it on my nice, clean pillow? Yes, love, it was,” Stef put her hands on her lips and glared at Lena, daring her to find a positive spin on this.

“You know,” Lena began carefully, her fingers drumming out an erratic rhythm on the keyboard, “When a cat leaves dead animals it’s a sign of affection and pride.”

“Oh yeah?” said Stef, her voice a dangerous rumble.

“Uh-huh,” said Lena bravely, ignoring the warning signs. “When I looked it up, the article said that cats bring home dead animals because they are hunters and are showing that they can take care of their family.”

“Well, that’s very interesting, Lena,” said Stef in the same tone, her body language changing ever so slightly. “Did the article, perhaps mention why the cat would be leaving the dead animals on it’s owner’s pillow?”

“No,” Lena faltered, finally daring to look up from her paperwork. “It-it didn’t mention that kind of behavior at all.”

“Well,” said Stef with faux brightness, “It seems to me, even as unfamiliar as I am with the feline species…” Uh-oh, thought Lena as she noted the warning signs of an impending rant. “That if a creature is leaving dead animals on the pillow of the person of whom it despises, that it might be a threat.”

Lena trotted out a smile, “Oh Stef,” she said placatingly, “Puddy doesn’t hate you.”

“I’m sure that’s what the Untouchables said when Capone was leaving horse heads in their beds,” Stef snapped.

Lena frowned, “I think you’re mixing up-“,

Stef waved her hands. “You know what I mean.”

“You sound like a crazy person,” said Lena flatly, shutting her computer with a soft click. “I’m seriously thinking about consulting a psychiatrist. The cat is not out to get you.”

“Oh really? Then maybe you haven’t noticed, that in three of the four times I had these lovely little gifts you and I,” she moved closer and lowered her voice suddenly, furtively looking around, “Were planning on being…intimate,” she finished in a whisper.

Lena closed her eyes in supplication, then her brow furrowed, she opened her eyes, “Were we really…”

“Uh-huh.”

“Every time that he left a-”

“Yup.”

“Well that’s just –you must be mistaken. We must be forgetting something.”

“We are not,” said Stef with great dignity. I am getting p-”

“Don’t you say that word,” warned Lena, raising her eyebrow in warning. “I hate that word and you will not use it around me.”

Stef’s humor began breaking the surface of her irritation. “But the fact that it is happening because of an actual feline…is either humorous or some sort of karmic retribution. I haven’t figured out which one yet.”

Lena rubbed her forehead, then looked at her lover with determination. “Did you change the sheets?” she asked.

Stef looked offended, “Of course I changed the sheets I-”

Lena grabbed her hand and began pulling her up the stairs. “Lena, what are you – what are you doing?” Stef sputtered.

“Changing the pattern.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

“I’ve got you now,  you little bastard,” Stef said, holding the broom in a threatening manner. “Put down the mouse, or you are going to become the flattest kitty outside a cartoon character.”

Even though his mouth was full, Puddy managed a pretty serious hiss. His green eyes sparkled with venom as they darted around, trying to find a way out of the corner he had been backed into.

“You are not leaving another mouse on my pillow,” warned Stef with a serious swipe, “You drop that mouse now or I swear that I-” A small gasp interrupted her threat and she gave a quick glance, reluctantly, from her target. Her youngest son was watching her, eyes wide as he stuffed chips into in his mouth. “Jesús,” asked Stef in exasperation, “Why aren’t you in there,” she gestured to the family room with her broom, “Watching TV with your brother and your sister?” She fixed her eyes back on to her nemesis.

She heard his footsteps as he padded a little further into the kitchen, “This is better then the TV, Mom!” he said with undisguised excitement, “You and Puddy are like the Roadrunner and the Coyote!”

Stef fumbled with the broom a moment, nearly dropping it. “The Coyote and the- ” she frowned suspiciously, sparing another glance at her son, “Which one am I?”

Jesús giggled merrily and Stef spun suddenly, seeing the cat trying to make a break for it. “Oh no you don’t!” she yelled, slamming the broom onto the floor where the cat had been a second ago. “Dammit,” she swore, then corrected herself instantly, “Darn it!” She flew around the room making wild swings, one of them finally connecting. With a startled howl, Puddy dropped the mouse and scurried out of the kitchen, only pausing to give her a baleful look.

“You got it Mom!” said Jesús cheerfully. “Good job!”

“Thank you Jesús,” said Stef wearily as she got a new bag to clean up the dead mouse.

“And you beat him, even without an Acme credit card,” Jesús chirped as pieces of chips found their way to the floor.

“Uh-huh,” said Stef. Apparently that answered the question of who she was in his little scenario. It was a comparison she didn’t really appreciate.

“Puddy sure likes playing with you Mom,” he continued enthusiastically, swinging his arms in ever widening circles. “I think you’re his favorite person ever. He doesn’t play with anyone else like he plays with you.”

“Yeah,” said Stef, tying the plastic bag with a firm knot, “We’re real buddies.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Hey Jesús,” said a sneering voice, “What’ve you got there, a wittle kitty?”

Jesús looked at the other boy calmly, “Yup,” he said, stroking Puddy’s back possessively.

“Aw, how cute,” the other boy mocked, getting off of his bicycle and walking closer to the front yard. Jared had tried to pick on Jesús on many occasions, but he found, to his irritation, that Jesús always managed to turn the tables on him. Seeing him cuddled up with a cat though…that was an opportunity.

“Not really,” Jesús turned back to Puddy, running a string under his paw. “My mom says Puddy is a demon.”

“Wait – what?” asked Jared, stopping immediately.

“My mom says ‘That the cat is a demon and must be from hell’,” said Jesús coolly. “She said she’s not sure if he’s one of Satan’s minions, or actually Satan himself. Either way,” he shrugged, “It’s pretty interesting.”

“He doesn’t do anything,” scoffed the other boy, not taking a step further. “He’s just a cat.”

“Technically, he’s a cat,” said Jesús. He frowned at the contented feline, who had been purring nonstop since they had been playing, “Although technically he’s a murderer too.”

“What did you just say?” now Jared backed up a little, placing one hand on the handlebar of his ten speed.

“He’s a serial killer. That’s what Mom said. Mama said she was being ridiculous but that just made Mom sulky. I asked Brandon and he said technically Mom was right,” he stroked Puddy’s head and rubbed his furry ears. “But you’re the cutest serial killer ever. Ever! Aren’t you Puddy?” he said in his sweetest tones. The cat purred and placed a paw on Jesús’s shoulder in a very human-like gesture.

Jared scoffed, then startled back suddenly as Puddy laid his ears back and hissed in a particularly ominous, sibilant tone. Jared jumped on his bike. “I’m outta here. Keep your freaky, demon cat away from me,” he said over his shoulder.

“You’re better then a watch dog,” Jesús told Puddy with obvious pride, watching Jared pedal away. Puddy blinked with lazy affection that seemed to indicate that thinking otherwise was a mistake that you wouldn’t make again.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“No. No way.”

“What?” Lena continued to peruse her book, not even glancing at her partner.

“The cat is on our bed. It doesn’t get to be on our bed Lena, not ever,” Stef didn’t move from the doorway of their bedroom.

Lena sighed, not interrupting her ceaseless petting, “He’s on my side, honey, and you weren’t even here.”

“I don’t care,” Stef folded her arms, trying to look fierce in her blue t-shirt and faded plaid pajama bottoms. “It’s _in_ our _bed_.”

“C’mon Puddy,” Lena said as she gathered the cat in her arms, “Mommy wants you out.”

Stef’s mouth dropped in affront. “I am not that thing’s mother. We aren’t doing that. We’ve got three, _three_ kids. This thing does not count.”

Puddy hissed, apparently sensing his least favorite human’s vitriol. Stef hissed back. “That’s very mature Stef,” said Lena as she dropped Puddy on the floor.

“There’s a cat in my _bed,”_ Stef mumbled, ruffling the sheets officiously as she plumped her pillow. She was mollified when Lena plunked her head onto her chest and snuggled into her side. “Much better,” said Stef quietly, letting herself be soothed as she ran her fingers through her lover’s hair and over her skin. She fell asleep to the sound of her partner’s soft breathing.

A soft thump and hiss woke Stef from a particularly appealing dream featuring Lena, a bottle of chocolate sauce, and a paintbrush. “Ahhh!” she yelled as Puddy hissed in her face and tried to swipe at her with his claws. Without hesitation she knocked him off the bed. “Son of a _bitch_ ,” she swore with great feeling.

“What happened, what happened?” Lena grabbed onto her.

“It’s that damn cat. He pounced on me, like practically on my face,” Stef sputtered as she threw back the covers.

Lena sat up blearily and reached over to turn on the light. They both blinked at the brightness. “Where, Stef? How? The door’s closed. So is the window.”

“It was just here Lena,” Stef stumbled ungracefully out of the bed at began poking around the room. She opened the closet, no cat. She looked under the bed, no cat. She opened the door to the bathroom, no cat.

“Stef,” Lena’s voice was steady. “I don’t think he’s here.”

“He was here Lena, I saw him. I am not imagining this.”

“I’m not saying you did,” Lena held her arms out invitingly. Stef ignored her, stubbornly turning about, trying to find any hidden corners the cat might be lurking. She heard Lena sigh, then pad over to join her, “Honey,” Lena began.

Stef held out a hand in warning, “Don’t start with me Lena. That cat is a demon, with some sort of…cloaking device.”

“Sweetheart, I believe you. If you said Puddy was in our room, I believe you,” the tone Lena was using was the one you might use on someone with a mental illness and it irritated Stef unspeakably.

“He _was_ ,” she insisted.

“I’m sure of it,” said Lena calmly. She reached over to grab Stef’s chin, “I believe you Stef, I promise. We will figure this out later. Right now, we are going to bed.”

“But he…,” Stef trailed off, frowning, then rubbing her eyes tiredly. She let Lena lead her back to the bed and tuck her back under the covers, not relaxing until they were curled into one another again.

“What if he comes in here again?” Stef mumbled, plucking at the sheets with anxious fingers.

“Then you have my permission to make a rug out of him,” said Lena matter-of-factly.

With that pleasant thought, Stef fell back asleep.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Despite a delightful dream featuring a certain feline performing as a particularly fuzzy doormat, Stef woke up with a head of steam. Her dire implications muttered under the shower stream, while dressing, and even when brushing her teeth were both colorful and inventive.

Lena had nodded a lot, then after putting on her earrings, dragged her partner back to sit on the bed. “Stef,” she said. “Do we need to get rid of the cat?”

 _Yes_!! screamed Stef inside of her head. Yesterday, preferably. She looked at her partner’s dark eyes and sucked in a breath. Better person, better person, she needed to be the better person, she chanted to herself, seeing the barely covered disappointment there. Of course, in this case she was trying to be the better person over a cat, so she wasn’t sure what kind of win that was. She chewed on her nail, and finally her gaze dropped, “No,” she muttered. “But we need the ground rules to be more clear,” she said.

“Okay,” Lena squeezed both her hands in her own. “What are the rules?”

Stef looked at her a little suspiciously, was she being patronized? “First, no cat in our room. Not ever,” she began.

“Okay,” Lena nodded.

“Somebody else cleans up any dead animals or hairballs,” Stef said. “Not me. Never me.” She thought a moment, “Unless I’m the only one in the house,” she added reluctantly. “I don’t want that stuff laying around for any amount of time.”

“Alright,” said Lena, agreeing again with no resistance.

Stef closed her eyes, trying to think of anything else she wanted that didn’t involved the cat gone or in some kind of permanent stasis. “I guess that’s all,” she said reluctantly, feeling as if she were forgetting something.

“Well if you think of anything else, it will get done,” said Lena, giving her hands another squeeze and moving to get up.

Stef held onto them, and tugged Lena down until she was sitting in her lap. “Why am I getting to make all the rules?” she asked worriedly. “We never do things that way.” She was unsettled by the change.

Lena chuckled a little, moving down to kiss Stef’s forehead, nose, then lips. When she pulled away again, she stroked Stef’s cheek. “I know what kind of concessions you are making honey,” she informed her. “You never wanted the cat. You don’t like the cat, and while you’ve been incredibly grumpy, you have tolerated it.”

“Oh,” said Stef softly.

“Besides,” Lena said, straightening her shirt, “Puddy does seem to have some kind of vendetta against you.”

“You finally believe me!” said Stef, amazed at her partner’s sudden admission.

“Oh honey,” Lena wrinkled her nose a little, as she kissed her once more, “That cat hates you.”

 

 


	22. Needing Better Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even goddesses like Lena have bad days.

 Lena hit her horn a little more sharply then she intended, her car emitting a discordant blast at the man whose cell phone conversation had caused his inattentiveness. “Inconsiderate …….,” Lena mumbled her discontent under her breath as the man waved his middle finger in thanks for the heads-up.

An earsplitting shriek from the backseat divided her attention. “Mama! Jesús just smeared peanut butter on my dress!”

“It was an accident,” Jesús said instantly, shoving the incriminating evidence in his backpack.

“It was not!” Mariana yelled. “You were just mad because I said your idea was stupid.”

“It was not stupid, and I didn’t do it on purpose,” Jesús insisted with a little shove.

“Jesús!” Lena finally snapped, “How many times have your mother and I told you to keep your hands off of people when you are angry? And Mariana,” Lena spared a glance in the backseat to shoot her a warning glance, “Stop yelling, and do not call your brother stupid.”

“I didn’t say he was stupid, I said his idea was stupid,” Mariana pouted. Her mother’s glare from the rearview mirror made her retract her statement. “Sorry Mama,” she said hurriedly. “Sorry Jesús,” she said less generously, turning towards her brother.

“Sorry,” he returned, sounding as unenthused about the apology as she did.

Lena rubbed her forehead, “I need you guys to be quiet,” she said firmly, “I have a headache, and I need to find the house your brother is at. I swear, the directions just make it more confusing.”

Ten minutes and some quiet poking in the back seat for the same amount of time, Lena pulled up to a large house.

“Wow!” exclaimed Jesús, “This place is like a mansion. I wish Brandon’s friend had a younger brother.”

“Or a younger sister,” said Mariana, also looking at the house in awe.

“Alright, best behavior you two. When you see Mrs. Landon, make sure you shake her hand and say hello in a nice, clear voice,” the last part was directed towards Mariana, who still had a tendency for shyness around strangers.

The twins nodded obediently as they exited the car and followed her to the door. Mrs. Landon, exquisitely dressed with coiffed hair and enough jewelry to support a small nation, answered the door. She was also very involved at Anchor Beach and ran most fundraising efforts of the school. As vice principal, Lena had many dealings with her. They had a good working relationship, and her son Trevor, was a likeable, if somewhat spoiled child. “Lena,” she said, using both hands to squeeze Lena’s, “I’m so glad you found us.”

“Thank you for taking Brandon,” Lena responded smoothly, “He’s been looking forward to having a play-date with Trevor for quite a while.

“Hello Mrs. Landon,” Jesús said, sticking his hand out a little too quickly but managing a firm handshake.

“Hi Mrs. Landon,” Mariana echoed a little more softly, trying to duck a little behind Lena which Lena prevented, firmly  but gently moving the little girl in front of her.

“They’re always so polite,” Mrs. Landon smiled at Lena.

“Thank you,” Lena responded, trotting out what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to collect her son. “Brandon didn’t give you any trouble then?”

The other woman shook her head. “Of course not! He’s always perfectly behaved.” She turned to call up the stairs, “Trevor, come to the door please. Brandon’s mother is here.”

Stomping feet and wild shouting greeted these words and the boys appeared dressed it what looked like full army regalia, including plastic machine guns. “We’re killing zombies Mom!” Trevor exclaimed in disappointment.

“You can kill zombies later,” his mother said patiently, “But Brandon needs to leave now.” She turned to look at Lena, “They had ice cream sundaes for dessert, so they’re a little wound up,” she informed Lena.

“Crap,” moaned Trevor, bringing their attention back to the boys. He threw his helmet to the floor in irritation and put the toy gun to Brandon’s head, “You just turned into a zombie,” he told him, “And bang your dead!” He clicked the trigger as it made rapid firing noises. Lena frowned in disapproval. She didn’t like guns and she did not like the fact that a gun, even a fake gun was pointed at her child’s head.

“Trevor,” his mother warned.

Brandon was already shedding the costume and putting it in a neat pile. “I’ll take these back to Trevor’s room and come down Mama,” he called to Lena his voice much faster then normal as he bounced and practically tripped over his own feet with his excess energy.

Lena wanted to shake her head. Clearly Brandon was going to be riding a sugar high for awhile. When she looked down at Jesús and Mariana, she saw the matching pouts her on their faces and knew the ice cream was going to be an issue. She mentally braced herself for the impending conversation.

Trevor swaggered down the stairs with his gun. “Wow, that really cool!” said Jesús, “Can I try it?”

“No way, you’re just a little kid,” said Trevor, making sure to hold it just out of the younger boy’s reach.

“He’s pretty cool for a little kid,” said Brandon, coming up behind his friend quickly and spotting his brother’s hurt expression. “He’d be really good at this game.”

Jesús gave his brother a grateful smile. “Maybe,” said Trevor, “He could be one of the zombies.”

Catching the speculative and slightly sinister smile on his friend’s face, Brandon shook his head. “No, Jesús is way too fast. He’d make a terrible zombie. He should be a good guy.”

“Whatever,” sighed Trevor. “Maybe.”

Lena was about to nudge her son when he turned to Mrs. Landon, “Thank you for having me Mrs. Landon,” he said, this particular etiquette hammered into him, “I had a very good time.” Trevor made a face behind him.

Mrs. Landon smiled, “It was a pleasure Brandon.” She turned back to Lena, “I was wondering if you had thought anymore about the funding for the Community Garden project.”

Lena restrained a sigh, trying to reign in her patience. “I have glanced over the proposal, but I really need to read through it more thoroughly to make my decision.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Landon said, obviously not really listening to her, “But it is an important issue. All of the members of the school board have given their approval, so its really important that we get the support of the administration right away.”

“I understand,” said Lena, keeping her voice steady. “I will let you know when I have studied the material at the level it deserves.”

“Well, okay,” the other woman responded, somewhat mollified. “I’ll see you at the next PTA meeting.”

 _Can’t wait_ , thought Lena as she practically rushed her children out of the house.

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The whining started as soon as the front door closed. “Mama, can we have sundaes tonight too?”

“No,” said Lena shortly, her mind mulling over the Community Garden proposal, one of the more ridiculous proposals she’d seen in a long time. Not so much the Community Garden, but what they considered “necessities” for the garden.

This time it was Mariana who whined, “But Brandon got ice cream. It’s not fair that he got ice cream and we didn’t.”

“You can have strawberry popsicles after dinner tonight,” said Lena, as she bustled them into the car and made sure their seatbelts were on.

“I hate those popsicles. They suck,” muttered Jesús.

“Jesús,” Lena warned as she backed out of the driveway.

“Relax you guys,” said Brandon. “I brought you something too,” he pulled out fistfuls of candy from his pockets.

“Brandon, where did you get that,” said Lena, glaring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Trevor’s house,” Brandon shrugged. “They had a couple huge bowlfuls leftover from some party. Trevor and Mrs. Landon said I could have as much as I wanted.”

“That doesn’t mean you take them up on their offer,” said Lena. “You take one piece, or you say, no thank you, my moms prefer I don’t rot my insides with junk. You don’t take your weight in candy!”

“I brought it for Marian and Jesús,” said Brandon, slightly wounded. “I knew they’d be jealous about the sundae thing.”

“Can we have the candy Mama?” said Jesús, already reaching for it.

“No,” said Lena flatly. “I don’t want you hyped up on sugar when I’m, trying to drive.”

Jesús gave a whine and flopped back in his seat, scowling. Brandon, who was still bouncing a little due to his sugar intake, bumped into his brother one too many times. “Stop it, Brandon!” Jesús yelled, giving his brother a shove.

“I didn’t mean to. Stop being such a crybaby,” Brandon said, grabbing his brother in a light headlock and drawing his knuckles lightly over Jesús’s head.

Jesús screeched and began batting at him with his fists.

“Boys!” Lena snapped, checking the mirror and trying to find a place to pull over, “Stop, right now!” The car jounced hard against a pothole, then stopped. Lena turned on the emergency lights, then turned to glare at her sons. They sobered immediately. She pointed her index finger at them ominously. “I want you to sit there and be quiet, understand me? No fighting. No talking. Keep your hands off each other. One more issue, and you will not be watching TV tonight.” Twin nods met her declaration. “Good.” As she turned the emergency lights off and signaled to enter traffic, the car made a peculiar noise and listed to one side.

“Uh-oh,” said Jesús, “What happened?”

Lena closed her eyes, praying that it wasn’t what she thought it was. “Stay here,” she instructed as she exited the vehicle. She moved to the passenger side and saw what she suspected. “Dammit!” she swore in frustration. She glared at the offending pothole and stomped over to the back to get the spare tire. To her utter dismay, it was also flat. Lena closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead. Ok. She could do this. They had Triple A. She went back to the car and opened the passenger side door and reached for her purse.

“What’s wrong Mama?” asked Mariana tentatively.

“We have a flat tire,” said Lena with a sigh as she began scrolling through her address book.

“Want me to help?” Brandon asked, peering around his brother.

“With a flat tire? No baby, stay in the car. Take care of the twins.” She quickly made the call to Triple A, plugging one ear against the noise of the traffic. She was relieved to find out the wait would only be around thirty minutes. With the day she was having she was sure it would be over an hour. Then she made a call to the nearest repair place, hoping they’d be able to get her in right away. After hearing it would be an hour and a half wait, but probably only a thirty minute fix, she sighed and put away her phone. Just as she was about to get back in the car, a pick-up truck pulled up behind her.

“Have a flat tire?” the man was large, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a baseball shirt. Maybe a basketball shirt. Lena wasn’t very good with sports teams.  “Can I help you ma’am?” his voice was kind.

“No, thank you.” Lena’s smile was wan, but genuine. “It seems that my spare is flat as well. I called for a tow.”

“Ok. You need anything else? Or your little ones?” he indicated the car where her children seemed to be performing some weird calisthenics.

“No. Thank you though,” said Lena bit ruefully.

“Alright,” the man nodded politely. “You take care then.”

“Thanks again,” said Lena.

She strode back to the car and opened the door. “What are you doing?”

“Brandon thought of a really good game, Mama!” Jesús yelled. “It’s like the lava game, ‘cept its in the car.”

Lena looked closely at her son, who had a telltale smudge of chocolate smeared across his chin. “Brandon,” she said, focusing on her eldest, “Did you give the twins chocolate after I told you not to?”

“Maybe?” Brandon bit his lip nervously.

Lena hissed in displeasure. “Brandon!”

“We kept begging him,” offered Jesús, not wanting to upset her further but unwilling to let his big brother take all the blame.

“He was just trying to take care of us,” piped Mariana softly.

“That’s not-,” the sound of the tow truck pulling up stopped the impending lecture. “We’ll talk about this in a minute,” she told them. She began to close the door. “Wait-Brandon, give me the rest of the candy,” she pulled a small sack she used for garbage out from under the seat as her son deposited several handfuls of smashed and melted candy into the bag. “Alright. You behave while I talk to the nice man.”

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Laconic, but efficient, Eddie the tow-truck driver attached the car to his truck in front of Lena’s admiring children. “I’m not sure we can all fit in the front seat Missis,” he said. “It’s really only meant for three.”

“We’ll be okay,” Lena said, unwilling to try and call Stef away from work to transport them. If she were on patrol she wouldn’t be able to help anyway. “Brandon, you get in first, Mariana can sit on your lap. Then I’ll get in. Jesús, you’ll sit in my lap.”

Brandon and Mariana hopped in, Brandon carefully encircling the seatbelt around both of them.

“Can’t I ride in our car Mama?” begged Jesús.

“No can do, little man,” said Eddie. “Boss would have my ass in a sling for sure.”

“Mama, that man said ass,” whispered Mariana loudly.

“Never mind sweetheart. Is it alright if the children call you Eddie?” she asked. Eddie nodded easily. “Eddie’s going to take us to the tire place and we’re going to get our car fixed up right away.” She got into the truck and pulled Jesús into her lap, taking care to put a seatbelt around them as well.

As the tow truck pulled away from the curve and began the relatively short trek to the auto repair shop, Mariana asked, “Are you going to be home late? Mommy’s gonna be worried.”

Lena stiffened involuntarily, automatically reaching out to pull her children closer to her as she eyed Eddie from the side. She could never be sure how people were going to react to her homosexuality, but on her own, she felt more then capable of handling most reactions. Her brazenness disappeared when around those she loved. She couldn’t bear the thought that Stef, or her children were hurt because of who she was, who she and Stef were together. She relaxed slightly when Eddie seemed unaffected by Mariana’s innocent question, and she patted her daughter’s arm. “It’ll be fine baby. The car will be repaired and we’ll be home before you know it.”

“Okay,” said Mariana happily.

Brandon seemed to sense his mother’s latent tension, because he moved them a little closer to her, and lay his head on her shoulder. She used her free hand to pat his cheek, then cleared her throat. “It’s a really nice day today,” she said.

“Yup,” said Eddie.

“It’s been nice – the weather I mean,” said Lena.

“Sure has,” responded Eddie.

When no other response seemed forthcoming, Lena dropped her head tiredly against the seat. The silence didn’t seem hostile, Eddie just didn’t seem to be much of a talker.

“I love your truck,” Jesús broke the silence enthusiastically. “What’s the biggest thing it can tow?”

“I dunno,” Eddie said amiably. “A tank maybe?” a little grin quirked the corner of his lips.

“No way!” said Jesús in delight.

“Mebbe an aircraft carrier,” the man amended.

“Really?” Jesús’s eyes were wide.

“He’s just joking around,” said Brandon quietly, his arms wound gently around his sister’s waist.

Eddie dropped both boys a wink and Lena relaxed completely.

At the auto repair shop, they bid Eddie good-bye and filed into the shop. After finding out that the wait would indeed be one and a half hours, Lena sighed and turned to her children. “Alright. I want you to get out your homework and get started. We can get it all done and when you get home, you may play. She grabbed Brandon gently by the back of the shirt. “Not so fast, young man.”

Brandon jerked to a stop and turned to face her. “I’m sorry Mama,” he said immediately.

“I know you are now, but it is important that obey Mom and me. Before you start your homework, I want you to write five reasons why it is important to listen to us when we give you a direction.”

“Okay,” her son nodded quickly, recognizing the leniency of the consequence. He pulled a notebook out of his backpack and got started.

“Uh-oh,” said Jesús.

“What?” asked Lena.

“Nothing,” he said, shutting his backpack and zipping it up quickly.

“Jesús - ” she warned.

He trudged over to her chair, “Remember when I put my snack away?” he said.

Lena closed her eyes. That seemed like hours ago. “Yes?”

He opened his backpack. Smears of peanut butter were on his binder, his books, and his notebooks.

“Jesús!” said Lena in dismay.

He cringed a little, “Sorry?” he offered.

Lena rubbed her forehead. “Just – go get some paper towels from the bathroom. Wet them, but not too much, then squeeze them out.”

He nodded eagerly as he went to do so. Although letting him clean the mess by himself would be more appropriate consequence, past instances had proved that it would only lead to a bigger mess.

By the time they had un-peanut buttered his backpack, and Lena had helped him begin his homework, Brandon appeared with a page of notebook paper in hand. “I finished Mama,” he said, subdued, sensing her continued exasperation.

“Okay, let’s see.” He moved closer, leaning against her leg as she read through the list. It was thoughtful, concise, and pretty much consistent with what she thought it would be. She nodded, looking at him with clear eyes. “So you understand why it’s important to listen to us?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded vigorously.

“Have you learned anything else?” she asked, prodding him towards deeper comprehension.

He bit his lip, “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy?” he asked, looking for her to smile and make things right again.

For pretty much the first time all day, a real smile broke over Lena’s face. She could hear her partner’s echo in the words and using humor to take away her bad mood was definitely a Stef move. She looked in the hopeful blue eyes, “That’s right,” she said with a firm pat to his leg. “Now go get your homework done.”

He nodded again, glad to see a little bit of his mother return.

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Mentally, Lena reviewed the contents of their refrigerator as they pulled into the driveway. She had planned on making a more complex fish dish tonight, but with the time as short as it was, she would need to switch gears. She definitely did not want to go to the store, so they’d have to make do with whatever they had at home. “Okay, go put your backpacks away,” said Lena as they entered the house, “Then you may go play in the backyard for awhile. Jesús, I will call you in a little earlier because it’s your turn to set the table.

Jesús nodded then turned to thunder up the stairs, then stopped. “Uh-oh,” he said, which seemed to be his personal theme song that day.

Lena was beginning to hate that particular utterance, “What?”

“Nothing!” he said instantly.

She followed his gaze into the kitchen and her mouth dropped open, “How did that happen!” she questioned incredulously. The refrigerator door was standing partly open and obviously had been so all day. She turned back to glare at her children.

“I told you Jesús!” yelled Mariana. “You went and got a snack and I told you not to and you said yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mimicked.

Jesús’s face turned red. “You were the one who distracted me! All your talking and stuff made me forget!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” howled Mariana. “You’re always forgetting everything all the time!”

With an inarticulate grunt, Jesús shoved his sister. Lena shook herself out of her semi-stupor. “Enough!” she said. “I am tired of listening to you fight and bicker. The refrigerator is open which means we have to throw away all the meat and milk and anything else that…” She closed her eyes trying to get ahold of her temper. “That’s a complete waste of money, which I will remind you, does not grow on trees. Jesús, I have told you not to shove your brother and sister too many times today. You are in time-out. Go sit on the couch.”

“Mama I -,” he began.

“Now!” she said, her voice a whiplash.

His shoulders drooped as he dragged himself to the couch. “Mariana-” Lena began sternly, but Mariana burst into tears and ran upstairs before she could say anything more.

Brandon was looking worriedly at her and at the stairs. He was torn, who should he try to comfort first? When he saw his mother heave a huge sigh as she began going through the refrigerator, he took a step towards her. “Mama..,” he began.

“Go upstairs Brandon. Go to your room,” Lena said, not even looking at him. “Just – just give me a minute, okay?”

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef was finishing up from last minute paperwork when her phone rang. She smiled at the simple caller identification that encompassed her whole world. “Hi love, I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“Mommy?” It was Mariana.

“Mariana, what’s wrong?”

“You gotta come home,” said Mariana, her breath hitching a little.

“Mariana, tell me what’s happening,” said Stef, keeping her voice calm. She stood up and grabbed her keys.

“Mama’s sad.”

Stef took a deep breath, trying to signal to her partner that she needed to leave. “Tell me exactly what’s happening Mariana, right now,” her voice was equal parts gentleness and sterness.

“Mama’s mad ‘cause she had a bad day at work and me and Brandon and Jesús were bad and the car had a flat tire and now the food is RUINED and gonna cost lots of money,” said Mariana in one breath.

Stef sat back in her chair, so, not an emergency. “You guys were bad? What did you do? Does Mama know you’re calling me?” Lena could manage any kid crisis. What had they done? Driven the car? Put bubble bath in the dishwasher?

Heavy breathing indicated Mariana’s struggle. “Mariana…” Stef warned.

“I was fighting with Jesús and Brandon gave us candy and Jesús shoved me and Brandon and left the refrigerator door open,” her voice dropped, “I’m using the phone in your room,” she admitted.

Those were their terrible crimes? Stef was confused.  “I don’t understand,” she finally admitted.

“Mama’s _sad_!” Mariana wailed, “You gotta come home and fix her. Now!”

Stef drummed her fingers on her desk. “Okay sweetheart, I’m on my way. I don’t want you guys to give your Mama any more trouble, understand?”

“We won’t,” Mariana sniffled.

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Stef stared at her phone. Her partner wandered over and tried to steal her stapler. She pretended to stab his hand with a pencil. “What’s up Foster?” he asked, reaching around her to swipe it anyway.

“I need to go home. Can you finish the rest of the report? There’s only the last question.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he flapped his arm dismissively, “Go on. Things okay though?”

“Lena’s having a rough day,” said Stef as she grabbed things out of her desk and put them in her pockets.

“Yeah? That’s too bad. She’s a nice lady.” Sam and Lena had really hit it off when they had met three months ago.

“Yeah. She’ll be fine,” said Stef, patting her badge, pockets, and gun one more time to make sure she had everything. “Just needs a little TLC.”

Sam opened his mouth.

“Shut up Anderson, or I’ll staple your fingers to your head the next time we meet,” Stef warned.

Sam grinned at her, then clicked his mouth shut as he waved good-bye.

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

As Stef entered her home she could feel the general tension in the air. She went into the kitchen to find Lena carefully reviewing the food strewn out on the counter trying to determine the suitability for human consumption. She quietly walked over to her lover and hugged her from behind. “Hey sweetheart,” she said gently. “I hear you’re having a rough day.”

Lena turned around in her arms, “Stef,” she said softly, and leaned into her embrace. She had been wanting this all day, the feel of her partner’s arms around her. Stef kissed her head and her cheeks, and just stood there quietly as Lena felt most of the tension drift away. “How did you know I was having a bad day?” she mumbled into her lover’s neck.

“Little bird,” said Stef, running her hands up and down Lena’s back.

Lena sighed, “One of the kids?”

“Mariana,” Stef admitted.

“I was really hard on them,” Lena was relaxing enough to feel regret.

“I’m sure they had it coming,” Stef countered.

“Not all of it,” Lena shook her head regretfully, “It was just like everything they did was magnified in my mind.”

“Sounds like you need a break,” said Stef matter-of-factly. “I want you to go take a bath or something, then we’ll have dinner. I brought food,” she indicated the table.

“Martichello’s?” Lena lifted an eyebrow, “I didn’t know they do take-out.”

“They don’t,” Stef admitted, “I pulled some strings. Now, please go upstairs. Start a bath. Relax. I’ll take care of the kids.”

“Stef, I already yelled at them. And punished them.”

“I’m sure you have,” Stef grinned and kissed her head like she would one of the kids. “I’m not going to sell them or anything. I’m just going to make sure they don’t bother us for awhile.”

“Make sure they eat…” Lena began.

“The pizza is for them,” Stef assured her. “It’s not Martichello’s but considering they’d eat Mac and Cheese out of the blue boxes, I’m not worried that their palate will be offended.”

Lena smiled as she went upstairs. A bath sounded like a wonderful idea, and if her partner’s tone was any indication, she wouldn’t be having it alone.

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Okay, I’m not going to talk to you guys about what happened today. Mama said she  dealt with it and I believe her. But I am disappointed that when you noticed she was having a bad day, you didn’t make it easier for her.” Three little heads bowed remorsefully, and Mariana’s lip began to quiver. “That being said, you owe it to her to give her a relaxing night.”

The children nodded, eager to make amends. “What can we do Mommy?” asked Jesús.

“You guys are going to go camping in the backyard.”

Three eyes widened in delight. Backyard camping! They loved backyard camping! This was the very opposite of the punishment they’d been expecting. “Really Mom?” asked Brandon, slightly skeptical. It wasn’t quite like Scrooge’s transformation, but in his mind, it was pretty darn close. Making Mama unhappy was a surefire way to get their Mom riled up.

“Yes, really,” said Stef. “In return, we are not going to see or hear you for the rest of the night. Unless there’s an emergency,” she amended quickly. “And by emergency I mean blood, puking, or kidnappers.”

Brandon and Jesús both giggled, but Mariana looked worried, “Kidnappers?” she piped nervously.

“There will be no kidnappers,” Stef assured her. “They would be scared to come here. I mean, first of all, there’s me, a cop. But even better there’s Mama, who can verbally eviscerate any human in five seconds.”

Brandon raised an eyebrow, “Nice vocabulary word Mom,” he complimented.

“Apparently you can teach an old dog new tricks,” said Stef, tousling his hair. “Okay. Now Jesús and I are going to set up the tent. Mariana, Brandon, I want you to get your pjs on. Then find your sleeping bags and anything else you think you’ll need. No electronics though,” she said as an afterthought.

“Can we bring flashlights?” Jesús asked eagerly.

“Yes.”

“Can we bring our books and other stuff to do?” asked Mariana.

“Yes.”

“Do we get to eat dinner?” asked Brandon.

“Since when do we starve you kids? Yeah. I got you guys a pizza. You can eat in the tent.”

“Can we have s’mores?” asked Jesús.

“Not a chance.”

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

It took very little time to set up the tent. Within fifteen minutes the kids were settled in the tent with the pizza, milk, and their various toys.

“Now remember, you guys are to stay here and not interrupt us. We need some grown-up time,” Stef warned them.

“What if we have to go to the bathroom?” Brandon asked.

“Go in the bushes,” said Stef absent-mindedly checking to make sure they’d have everything they needed.

“Cool!” yelled Jesús.

“Mommy!” said Mariana, scandalized.

“I’m just kidding, you come in and use the bathroom of course.”

“I can’t believe we don’t have to brush our teeth tonight,” said Jesús happily.

“Yup, live it up, buddy,” said Stef, patting his back fondly. “Okay, you guys got everything?” The children nodded. “Alright then. Absolutely no bad behavior,” she pointed at them warningly. “I have to deal with any naughtiness tonight, and I will not be the only one that’s unhappy. Understand?”

“Understood,” the children chorused.

“Love you monkeys,” said Stef, giving them each a kiss. “Have fun.”

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena relaxed against the bath cushion, feeling the steam from the got water sweep over her. The scent of lavender permeated the room and the candles added to the tranquil atmosphere. She smiled without opening her eyes as her lover padded into the room. “Kids okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Stef climbed in behind her, resting her back against the bath cushion and letting her lover recline against her.

“Mmmm,” Lena murmured.

Stef let her hands run against her lover’s skin, the water adding a slickness that  made friction nearly non-existent. Seeing the stress still shadowed on Lena’s face, Stef began massaging her partner’s shoulders and arms.

Lena hummed happily and relaxed further. “Feels good,” she complimented quietly.

“Good,” said Stef, rubbing at a particularly difficult knot. “You want to talk about your day?” she asked gently.

“Just a bad day,” said Lena softly. Stef rubbed in silence for over five minutes. “I had to make a CPS report on one of our kindergartners. Sexual abuse we suspect,” her voice hitched a little. “She reminds me so much of Mariana.”

“I’m sorry, love,” said Stef. “I know how hard those are on you.”

Lena lapsed into silence for a bit, a tear running down her face. Stef stopped her massage and simply pulled Lena to her chest, crooning nonsensical love words in her ear. Lena took a deep breath. “Then we had to spend our entire staff day on the new testing procedures. I mean, we only get four of these half-days a year and we had to spend our third one on this.” She rolled her eyes, “And the testing is completely developmentally inappropriate which means at least half of the kids are going to fail the first time they take it and we’re going to have to spend a ridiculous amount of time training them on how to pass the test instead of _teach,_ which is our actual job.” She shook her head. “It’s enough to make me want to start my own private school.”

Stef kissed the side of her head, not saying anything, knowing that her partner needed to blow off steam. She knew Lena loved Anchor Beach, but it was a public school and was subject to the whims of the government.

Lena sighed, “The rest of it was really kids being kids. Nothing they did was horrible, or dangerous. They were just being little kids. I mean, they were being naughty little kids but nothing more then that.”

“The kids were being bratty and you had a bad day, love,” Stef said. “You’re entitled to that. In fact, you’re entitled to several. Many.”

“Yeah,” Lena tilted her head for a kiss and was gratified when Stef’s warm lips touched her own.

They stayed in the bath until the water began to cool, then they simply added more hot water and continued to kiss and cuddle. Stef couldn’t think of a time when they’d had the opportunity to simply kiss for a long period of time. It was surprisingly enticing. Finally they went downstairs and held hands as they ate. Stef told jokes and funny stories until Lena was nearly helpless with laughter. They left the dishes in the sink, and after checking on the children, who were sacked out quite peacefully, surrounded by the detritus of their camp-out, then went upstairs.

The women slipped into their pajamas, still warm from their bath, when Lena said tentatively, “Stef, I don’t want to be a mood-killer but I just don’t feel…I mean I’m just so tired that…” she stopped and looked down unhappily.

“My sweet, sweet, love,” Stef said tenderly, “Although I would adore the chance to make love to you tonight, I am just as happy for the chance to hold you.”

Another tear spilled out from Lena’s eye, so grateful that her partner understood. “Thank you,” she whispered, nearly inaudible from the emotion choking her throat.

“C’mere,” Stef tugged her over to the bed and they curled together, Lena’s head resting on Stef’s shoulder and Stef’s chin on Lena’s glorious crown of hair. “I love you so much,” said Stef. “You do so much for our family. You are amazing and wonderful and I can’t believe how lucky I am to be with you.”

Lena sighed happily as she snuggled into Stef. “Ditto,” she said softly.

They breathed in tandem, letting the night air cool the room and Stef drew patterns with her fingers against Lena’s skin. “How long do you think before the kids join us?” Stef whispered, half-expecting that Lena would be asleep.

“Sometime in the middle of the night,” mumbled Lena, a faint smile on her face. “And they’ll hog all the covers and kick a lot too.”

“Little demons,” said Stef fondly. Laughter followed them into sleep.

 

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Neither woman was surprised to find all three of their children strewn about on their bed the next morning. Stef used Mariana’s braid to tickle her awake. Her squeal woke her brothers up. “And just why are you here?” asked Stef in a stern voice.

“I think there’s a bear in the backyard,” said Brandon nervously glancing towards the window. “One of those little black bears that can climb over fences.”

“Brandon told us scary stories,” Mariana offered.

“You guys asked for scary stories,” Brandon defended himself quickly.

“Oh really?” said Lena, tickling his stomach a little. He giggled, nearly falling off the bed.

“Alright. I’m going downstairs and making pancakes. You guys can help me. Let’s give Mama a few more minutes of rest,” said Stef, rolling out of the bed.

The boys followed their mother and Mariana edged a little closer to Lena. She smiled and leaned forward until their noses touched. “Are you happy now Mama?” she asked.

Lena stroked her daughter’s cheek, “I’m very happy, baby.”

 


	23. Mother's Day

“Look guys,” Mariana held the delicately painted box with both hands. “Look what I made for Moms.”

Brandon spared her a quick look from the video game, “Cool,” he said carelessly.

“Yeah,” said Jesús without looking, afraid of losing the upper-hand he had against Brandon.

Mariana rolled here eyes, “What did you guys make for moms at school?” she asked, poking her way to sit between them.

“Nothing,” said Brandon, “I’m in middle school, not the baby grades anymore.”

“I made a pencil holder out of clay,” said Jesús, frowning at the screen, “But I dropped it one the way home and it shattered.”

“But you guys don’t have anything to give Moms for Mother’s Day,” said Mariana in dismay.

Brandon gave a snort, “Give me a break, Mariana. It’s not like Moms have any use for that crap anyway. Remember those stupid paper flowers I made in fourth grade? They looked like somebody crumpled balls of paper and threw then in the trash.”

Mariana looked uncertainty at her gift. Brandon glanced at her, then paused the game hurriedly, “Hey!” yelled Jesús.

“I didn’t mean like yours Mariana,” Brandon tried to assure her. “It’s my stuff that ends up looking like crap.”

“Yeah Mariana,” said Jesús, sensing his twin’s unease. “Girls are always better at that artsy crafty stuff.”

Brandon gave him a shove with his shoulder, glancing towards the kitchen, “Please say that again,” he said hissing under his breath, “I really want to hear Mama’s lecture about gender stereotyping. It’s fifteen minutes long,” he reminded him with a poke in his brother’s chest.

Jesús rolled his eyes. Mariana glared at them. “Don’t change the subject,” she ordered them. “What are you going to get Mom and Mama for Mother’s Day?”

“Dunno,” said Brandon, “It’s like, a month away.”

“Two weeks,” said Mariana. “Two weeks! You guys have to stop waiting for the night before a holiday to figure this stuff out!”

Jesús groaned, “Holy crap, Mariana, calm down.”

Mariana jerked the remotes of their hands. Jesús looked indignant but Brandon just looked resigned. “Don’t you want to do something nice for Moms? It’s like you don’t even love them or something.”

“That’s a stupid thing to say,” said Brandon flatly, “And not true.”

“We love them,” said Jesús looking between his siblings, “They know we love them.”

“But sometimes it’s good to do nice things…to really show them,” said Mariana plaintively. “Like when Brandon wrote that song and when we made dinner for them as a surprise.”

“I wasn’t planning on just giving them a card, Mariana. I’ve got money. I’m going to buy them something.”

“How much money do you have?”

“$35.73.”

“What are you going to buy?” asked Mariana grudgingly. $35 was a lot of money.

Jesús looked crestfallen, “I only have $7, what can I buy with that?”

Brandon sighed wearily. “We can share, Jesús. We’ll get something together.”

“Really?” Jesús brightened considerably, “Really Brandon? Even though you have lots more money? It’ll be from both of us?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pay you back,” said Jesús, nearly knocking Mariana over in his excitement. “I totally promise.”

“Hey!” Mariana whined, feeling left out. “That’s not fair! I wanna share a present with you guys too!”

“You have a present,” Jesús reminded her.

She frowned, looking at her box. Brandon bumped her shoulder lightly with his own. “Moms will love it,” he said seriously, not a trace of a tease on his face, “They really will Mariana. It’s cool.”

She squirmed a little and looked up at him from under her bangs, “But I want to do a present with you guys too,” she finally said.

“Fine,” said Brandon with a shrug as he leaned back into the couch. He didn’t care.

“Cool!” Jesús tried to grab the controllers back from Mariana.

She moved to cover them. “We have to figure out what we’re going to buy,” she reminded, rolling her eyes. Boys!

Now both of her brothers frowned. “Flowers?” Jesús suggested.

“Overdone,” said Brandon.

“Chocolate?”

“We aren’t married to them, Jesús,” said Brandon.

“Duh,” Jesús shot back, looking indignant. “But Marco and his dad always give his mom flowers and chocolates. Every year.”

“It’s overdone,” repeated Brandon, rolling his eyes as he rubbed his hand tiredly over his face.

“What’s your idea then, jerk?” asked Jesús, poking him in the side.

“Dunno,” Brandon said, “But if either of you mention macaroni jewelry, I’m outta here.”

“Jewelry is a great idea,” chirped Mariana, dropping the controls in excitement.

“It’s way expensive Mariana,” groaned Brandon.

“Nu-uh,” she argued, “I’ve seen pretty bracelets and stuff for $20,” she reached for a catalogue on the table to show him.

“That’s junk jewelry,” retorted Brandon, leaning off of the couch to grab the catalogue from her. “We aren’t giving it to Moms.”

“Well we can’t afford the blue boxes,” Mariana retorted, grabbing the catalogue back and opening it in a huff.

“Why are blue boxes expensive?” Jesús wanted to know, squirming beside his sister to look at the catalogue.

“The boxes aren’t expensive, dork. It’s the jewelry inside them. It’s from Tiffany’s. It’s a really expensive jewelry place. Girls love it.”

“Ooh, I’m telling Mama you’re making gender generalizations,” Mariana teased.

“A girl was the one that told me that,” Brandon retorted.

“Doesn’t make it true,” Mariana sing-songed, enjoying the fact that she could torture her brother for a bit.

Brandon flopped back onto the couch, momentarily defeated, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Mariana decided to give her brother a break and she got up to join him on the couch. “ _Do_ you have an idea of what Moms would like best?” she asked.

He shook his head, frowning at the darkened TV. “What they like best besides each other, is us,” he finally said, thinking carefully as he spoke.

“They already have us,” Jesús butted in, looking annoyed.

“No – wait,” said Mariana excitedly. “I get where he’s going. They like us best, so we need a present that has us in it.”

“Moms still have our handprints,” said Brandon. “They said they’d never get rid of those.”

“But we already did that,” Jesús whined.

“I _know_ that,” said Brandon, “But if it was something like that…”

“We could do pictures,” said Mariana, her eye falling on an ad in the magazine next to the catalogue she had replaced on the coffee table.

“They have a ton of pictures of us Mariana,” said Brandon.

“No, like really nice pictures,” said Mariana, grabbing the magazine and shoving it at her brothers, “From an actual photographer.”

Jesús got up on his knees and leaned over to stare at the picture. “Those are kinda cool,” he said, looking at the sample which included a black and white motif as well as a variety of backgrounds.

They looked at their brother who was nodding slowly. “That could be cool,” he agreed. Then he glanced down at the price, “$150-$300! Mariana, there’s no way we can afford that!”

Mariana frowned too, “They might not all be expensive!” she protested. “We can keep looking.”

“We’d have to earn a lot of money,” Brandon sighed. “It would take us a million years if we tried to save up our allowances.”

“I know what we can do!” Jesús yelled, startling his siblings. “Last week I helped Mr. Peterson weed his yard. He said his joints were getting creaky and he paid me ten bucks to weed. I made some mistakes at first,” he admitted, “But Mr. Peterson said I was a really good helper!”

“We can do yard stuff,” Mariana agreed. “Moms make us do yard chores all of the time.”

Brandon propped his chin in his hands. “We’d have to figure out how and when we’re going to do it,” he said. “Like we could tell Moms we’re going to go play, then go do yard jobs.”

“Do you think we should advertise?” Mariana asked, frowning as she looked at the ad.

“No way,” said Brandon. “Moms would totally find out. We can ask the neighbors and tell them we’re doing it to get Moms a present. People will be quiet if we tell them it’s a surprise.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The plan went off easier then the children thought it would. Word went through the neighborhood rather quickly and even the families that generally did their own work, were willing to hire the Foster children “for such a good cause.” What was less simple was the many times where their estimate of how long things would take did not match and they were late coming home. After the third time for Jesús, and the second time each for Mariana and Brandon, Stef decreed that anyone else that came home late would be grounded.

“Great,” grumbled Brandon as they held a pow wow in Mariana’s room. “There’s no way one of us isn’t going to be late one of these days.”

“We just need to watch our time more carefully,” Mariana said firmly. “Especially you, Jesús.”

“It’s not my fault I’m such a great worker,” Jesús defended himself. “I’m making tons of money.”

“Money for Moms,” Mariana reminded him, shoving him off of her pillows.

“I know that,” said Jesús, “I’m not a jerk, you know.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Brandon grimly, looking up from the money he had been counting, “We aren’t going to have enough by the time Mother’s Day comes around.”

“What?” said Mariana in dismay.

“I told you we probably wouldn’t,” sighed Brandon, shoving the money to the side, disappointment marring his features.

Mariana frowned, “I’m gonna talk to the photographer lady,” she said. “I bet she’ll let us pay in ensal…atall…what’s that word Brandon?”

“Installments,” said Brandon, “And there’s no way that’s going to happen.”

“She might,” said Mariana stubbornly. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“You aren’t going to that ghetto,” Brandon warned her. He had been irritated when the photographer Mariana had set her heart on came from a bad part of town, but after reading the rave reviews, and seeing examples of her work, he had to admit that she was one of the best.

“You just try and stop me,” Mariana shot back pertly.

Brandon groaned and flopped back on the on the bed muttering vile imprecations under his breath.

Mariana grinned, knowing she had won. “Jesús, you have basketball practice tomorrow so you can keep Mama there and slow her down so I have lots of time to get there and come back.”

“I can totally do that,” said Jesús. “How much time do you need?”

“As much as you can possibly give me,” said Mariana. “At least until dinner time.”

“If you think you’re going by yourself, you’re crazy,” said Brandon from his position on the bed.

“Nope,” said Mariana, “I knew you’d come with me. Now we just have to figure out what buses we need to take to get there.”

Brandon covered his face with his hands, “We are so dead,” he groaned.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“The bus kind of stinks,” Mariana whispered to her brother, as she crowded a little closer to him.

He refused to look at her, “That’s because there’s stinky people on this bus,” he said, gripping her hand tightly in his own. They had been getting closer and closer to the photography studio and with each derelict building passing by and each wanna-be thug boarding the bus, he grew more nervous.

“You’re cutting off the circulation in my hand,” she whined at him, trying to free herself.

“Deal with it,” he said curtly, his grip not lessening one iota.

Mariana sighed and settled down. She wouldn’t admit it to him but she was a little nervous herself. She was glad he was with her, even if he _was_ being unbearably cranky. They were quiet, and Mariana glanced out the window. “Brandon, I think our stop is coming up. We’re on the right street now.”

“Do you remember the cross street?” asked Brandon, peering out the window as well.”

“It’s 25th,” said Mariana.

“Okay.” Brandon reached up and pulled the cord, the bell dinging in response.

It didn’t take them long to find the studio. The storefront was vibrant, a stark difference to the buildings around it. “This is it,” said Mariana, matching the address to the paper she held in her hand. She turned to her brother, “I want to talk to her first,” she said matter-of-factly, “I’ll get her to listen.”

“Fine,” said Brandon. “I’ll stay out here and…” he looked around uncomfortably, “Enjoy the scenery.”

“Alright,” Mariana started to release his hand, then stopped and turned, giving it a little squeeze. “Stay where I can see you?” she pleaded.

Brandon’s eyes softened, “I will. Don’t worry.”

She gave him a smile, then turned and walked through the door.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

The little girl who walked into her studio was an absolute darling, Felicia decided,  big brown eyes and the one of the sweetest smiles. She was dressed immaculately and stylishly in a short skirt and multi-patterned top.

“Hi! I’m Mariana,” the little girl said, extending her hand to shake.

“Hello Miss Mariana,” Felicia said gently, realizing the little girl was trying to be taken seriously. “I’m Felicia Cuevas. What can I do for you today?”

“Me and my brothers are trying to do a really nice Mother’s Day present,” the little girl said earnestly. “We decided we’d do pictures and when I looked up studios, I found yours. The reviews and stuff say you’re one of the best.”

“Thank you,” said Felicia, a small smile pulling at her lips. “So you want to do some portraits?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean, we want you to tell us what’s going to look good. That’s your specialty, right?”

The little girl’s tone was so earnest and adorable that Felicia had to restrain the desire to pat her on the head, or squeeze her cheeks, or any of those things that would surely mortify the child. “That’s what they say.”

Mariana’s smile crinkled her eyes and then she glanced at the window where a skinny boy in blue jeans and a button down shirt paced.  “But you see we kinda have a problem and my brother and I came to talk to you about it.”

“Your brother?” Felicia asked, following the girl’s gaze.

Mariana nodded, a fond look on her face. “That’s my brother,” she said, pointing unnecessarily, “The surly one with brown hair.”

Felicia looked between the two, and hummed quietly, “I see,” she said.

The boy noticed his sister pointing and heaved a sigh as he opened the door. “Brandon!” the girl said brightly, “This is Felicia. She’s going to be our photographer!”

“Not yet,” the boy said coolly, looking around the studio, “Especially if you haven’t talked payment yet.” Like his sister, he offered his hand solemnly. “I’m Brandon. It’s nice to meet you Felicia,” he recited automatically.

Felicia offered her hand in return. “It’s nice to meet you as well,” she said. “What do you mean, about the payment?”

“Well,” said Mariana, “We didn’t have our idea for Mother’s Day until last week and even though we’ve been working very hard we probably won’t have enough for the portrait package for another couple of weeks,” this was said in one breath, Mariana eyeing her carefully. “And if we don’t have the pictures then Brandon and Jesús won’t have a present for our Moms and I’ll have one but it won’t be as nice and the pictures we want to give them.”

“Moms?” repeated Felicia, trying to keep the events of the story in order.

“We have two moms,” the boy said, chin jutting slightly and wearing a just-on-the-edge-of-attitude expression on his face. “So if you don’t approve of that or whatever, we’ll go someplace else.”

“Brandon!” said Mariana, smacking him with one hand. She turned apologetically to Felicia, “It’s true though. If you don’t approve of homosexuals then we have to find someone else. We’re proud of our moms,” her spine had stiffened and she stood a little straighter.

Felicia took a deep breath, “I don’t have any problem with it. All I was trying to do was make sure I understood the story,” she gave the boy a level look since he was the one who seemed the most pugnacious about it.

He dropped his head a little, then nodded quickly. “Sorry,” he offered, slightly subdued.

Felicia nodded firmly to let him know she meant business, then a smile broke out over her face again. “So! Let’s continue our negotiations.”

Mariana nodded excitedly. “Like I was saying, we almost got the money but not quite all of it. We were wondering if we could give you an IOU or something. We could give you what we have now, then owe you later…after we get the pictures,” he voice became a little softer at the end and she looked hopefully at Felicia.

“No Mariana,” said the boy quietly before Felicia could answer. Mariana looked behind her, surprised. “We can’t just give her an IOU. It isn’t right,” his voice wasn’t cruel, but it was very decided.

“But…but…Brandon, what else are we going to do?” stammered the girl.

Brandon sighed and moved closer to the counter, a piece of paper…no a photograph clutched tightly in his hand. He looked at Felicia with grave, blue eyes and he lay the photograph on the counter between them. “This is my keyboard,” he explained carefully. “It’s worth about $500. If you agree to do our portrait, I’ll leave it with you until we get all the money we owe you. Then I’ll take it back.”

“Brandon!” Mariana was completely aghast and beginning to understand why her brother had been so cranky that day, “You can’t do that. It’s your piano! It’s your very favorite thing in the whole world!” She grabbed his arm and shook it a little, then turned to face Felicia. “He’s a musician. He’s going to be a concert pianist someday.”

“Shut _up_ Mariana,” groaned Brandon, covering his face.

“He is!” insisted Mariana. “Our Moms are so, so proud of him and he plays more beautifully then anyone else I know.”

“You don’t know anyone else who plays the piano,” Brandon huffed in irritation, embarrassment at his sister’s praise coloring his face.

“I’ve gone to every single one of your concerts Brandon Michael Foster! Don’t you tell me what I know and don’t know!”

Mariana was as ruffled as any little chick and Felicia had to cover a smile with her hand. “It must be wonderful to have your sister be so proud of you,” she said to Brandon, whose face was now practically purple.

He nodded stiffly but the tension melted out of him when Mariana practically tackled him around the waist. “Don’t do it Brandon! We’ll find another way.”

“Look kids,” Felicia said calmly, “I trust you to bring the money. I’ll do the pictures okay?”

Brandon shook his head and Mariana groaned, “He’s as stubborn as our Mom,” she informed Felicia.

“It’s nice of you,” he said gravely, “But it isn’t right. You have to make a living. If something bad happened, and we didn’t get the money to you, you would end up losing out.” He looked at his sister, “We’ll get the money Mariana, this is just insurance for her.”

Felicia locked eyes with him, then nodded minutely. “Okay kids, you got a deal.” She shook hands with Brandon, then Mariana, then clapped them together. “Okay, so I have time on Tuesday at 4:00.  Can you get here?”

Mariana bit her lip and looked sidewise at Brandon, “Yes, I think so,” the boy said slowly.

“Well, let me know if it doesn’t. I want you to bring several type of outfits. Maybe try to coordinate a little.”

“I can do that!” Mariana said eagerly. She looked at her brother and gave an evil chuckle.

He sighed and shook his head. “Okay. I’ll bring my keyboard then too. The timing will work. We’ll figure it out,” he trailed off, looked down at his watch, then spoke urgently, “Mariana, we gotta go. Right now!”

She looked down at her own watch, and drew in her breath swiftly. “Uh-oh. Okay. Thank you Felicia. We’ll do what you said. If we have any more questions, we’ll call you.”

“Okay. See you later kiddoes.”

“Bye!” said Mariana.

Brandon opted for a quiet wave. Felicia watched the children leave. The little girl grabbed her brother’s hand briefly, and he let her squeeze it, then maneuvered his arm so it hung over her shoulders in a quick hug. They were sweet kids. The shoot would be very interesting.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

They were late, of course, and no explanations were determined to be acceptable. Both Mariana and Brandon were grounded.

“A whole week!” Brandon said. “We were only a little late!”

“You were an hour late young man, and your excuse is paper thin. I don’t believe you, either of you and I’m extremely disappointed that you’d choose to lie to us,” Stef bit off.  Mariana lowered her head and started to sniffle.

Brandon looked at his sister, then his mothers helplessly. “We were only a little late,” he insisted again, “And we weren’t doing anything bad.”

“Then tell us what you were doing and where you were,” Lena’s voice was calmer than Stef’s, but also had an edge to it.

Stubbornly, the boy shook his head and joined his sister looking down at the ground. “Alright then, you’re grounded for a week and since we can no longer _trust_ you, we’re not going to take anything you say at face value, which means you’ll be required to check-in and we will be checking up on you,” Stef’s tone was a mixture of anger and disappointment that caused both Mariana and Brandon to wince.

“Go to your rooms, please,” said Lena, her voice also laden with disappointment. “I’ll call you for dinner, then I want you to get ready for bed after we’re done.”

Mariana sniffled again, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks, and ran upstairs. Brandon gave his mothers another look, they could see he was practically biting his tongue, then turned to trudge up the stairs.

Lena sighed and Stef shook her head, leaning against the counter. “What the hell was that all about? They’ve been fine this whole week. There hasn’t been any issues, now this?”

“I think Jesús knew something was going on too. He kept us from getting home with a million excuses about missing homework and shoes and all sorts of stuff,” Lena said, thinking over her day.

“Great,” Stef groaned. “Maybe we should just ground him preemptively.”

Lena shook her head, “No, I’ll try talking to him again. Maybe he’ll crack.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

To Jesús’s credit, he did not crack. He did however, feel quite badly for his siblings. Cathy was reinstalled as the babysitter for the week, and possibly longer, Stef had threatened, making it clear that Brandon was not to be trusted with baby-sitting duties.

“This might make it easier,” Jesús said optimistically, “Maybe Cathy can drive us.”

“I don’t know,” said Brandon. “Moms told her that me and Mariana were grounded. She might be a tough sale.”

“I’ll talk to her,” said Mariana. “It’s our present for Mother’s Day. I think she’ll let us…if I’m convincing enough.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Cathy said for the tenth time, looking out the windows as she changed lanes. “If your Moms find out they’ll kill me. Then they’ll call my mom and she’ll kill me too.”

“You’re nineteen,” said Jesús, fiddling with his seatbelt as he squirmed around. “Aren’t you supposed to be an adult when you’re eighteen?”

Cathy rolled her eyes, “Technically, yes. But do you really think you’re just going to tell your Moms, ‘Screw you Mom, I don’t have to listen to you, I’m eighteen now’ when you turn eighteen?”

Jesús tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Maybe? But only if I could outrun them.”

“Exactly. Your Moms can still yell at you, whether you’re an adult or not,” Cathy informed them.

“That’s something to look forward to,” Brandon mumbled as he stared out the window. His fingers drummed on his keyboard case, feeling nervous about giving it up, even though he knew he and his siblings would earn the money they needed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think your Moms are going to love their present,” Cathy informed them.

“Really?” asked Mariana, also staring pensively out the window. She hated upsetting her mothers. It was giving her a nervous stomachache.

“Really,” said Cathy. She managed a quick, backward glance at them, “Your probably still going to be grounded though,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Crap.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Felicia looked up as the little group trooped into her studio.  “Hello Brandon, Mariana,” she greeted warmly. “This must be your brother…and your…sister?” she hazarded weakly, looking at the mahogany skinned teenager.

The girl laughed, “No,” she said, extending her hand politely. “Just the babysitter.”

“Oh. Okay then,” Felicia returned the handshake.

“I brought them down, but I’ll stay out of your way,” the teen’s teeth flashed  when she grinned.

“I’m Jesús,” piped up the boy with a lady-killer smile as he extended his hand as well. His handshake was a little less polished but a lot more enthusiastic.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jesús,” said Felicia with a matching grin.

“We brought all out stuff,” interrupted Mariana. “What do you want us to do first?”

Felicia extended her hand, and looked through the clothing quickly. “Let’s start formal first, then move on from there.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The children were easily some of the most cooperative young people she had ever worked with. Even Jesús, who was obviously a ball of energy was quick to follow directions and endlessly good-mannered, even though he managed to knock over nearly everything in the studio at least twice.

Once Felicia had loosened them up, the children smiled easily and became more playful. Although they tended to tease one another, they were very careful not to hurt one another’s feelings. By the end of the shoot, they were exhausted, and they dropped in a small heap onto the floor.

“Oh hey, I wanted to show you guys something,” said Jesús, wiggling off the floor and running to his backpack. He returned to them with a carefully wrapped object. “I’m done with the frame. Mr. Bolston helped me but not a lot. He mostly just let me use his tools. I did pretty much everything all by myself. It’s all polished and everything.” He removed the cloth and presented it to his siblings.

They just stared for a moment. “Jesús, it’s beautiful,” whispered Mariana in awe.

“It really is Jesús,” agreed Brandon.

The frame was oak, smoothed to perfection. Jesús had added a simple design by burning it into the wood. He had managed the proportions extremely well and all the sides matched one another nearly perfectly.

Mariana looked down at the inscription, and her brow furrowed. “It is really nice, Jesús,” she said. “But I thought you were going to write “love” on it.”

“Not after what Brandon said,” said Jesús, giving his brother a glare.

“I said I didn’t want it to sound cheesy, like a Hallmark card,” defended Brandon, “And it shouldn’t.”

“But why?” began Mariana, her eyes shuttering in thought as dawning realization came over her.

“I remembered that song Brandon plays for Mama sometimes, when she’s feeling sad. It always makes her happy,” Jesús explained, looking back and forth between his siblings.

“Her Grandma sung it to her when she was a little girl,” said Brandon softly, tracing the lettering with his finger. “She says it always makes her think of family.”

“That’s exactly what I thought of Brandon,” said Jesús, delighted. “That’s why I put it.”

“Our Unbroken Circle,” read Mariana. “That’s…that’s really cool Jesús”

“It’s perfect for our whole family picture, Jesús,” said Brandon. “Moms are going to love it.”

Jesús’s chin rested on Brandon’s head as he pointed out the details. Brandon held Mariana in a half hug, a fond grin on his face as she stared at her brothers in adoration. Felicia snapped a picture. That would make it into the package as well. She was pretty sure it would be one of their mothers’ favorites.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

“Okay, so, we’ll see you back next week. We get at least a half hour to take pictures with our Moms, right?” Mariana reviewed, tension in her posture.

“Yes, a half hour, and any extra time we need to make things perfect,” soothed Felicia.

“Okay,” Mariana nodded, and her face fell a little as she looked at the keyboard case laying on the counter. “Brandon,” she began.

“Don’t start Mariana,” said Brandon, holding up a hand. “It’s done.” He looked at Felicia seriously, “We’ll have the money ready for you by the time we get the family portrait done,” he said, trying to reassure the both of them.

“I know you will,” she said, holding his gaze.

He nodded, then turned to his siblings. “C’mon. We gotta get home before Moms figure this all out and spoil the surprise. Then kill us,” he added thoughtfully.

The children bustled out of the studio, yelling their thanks as they went. Cathy gave her a little wave. Felicia smiled. She really did like this family. She couldn’t wait to meet the Moms.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef lay in bed. What a crummy Mother’s Day this was going to be. Two of the kids were grounded and probably still pouting. Instead of enjoying the day they would all have to suffer. She frowned, it was completely inconsiderate of them and it made her question the kind of job she was doing if her children couldn’t give their moms one day to show their appreciation.

“Stop,” mumbled Lena, her voice thick with sleep.

“Stop what?” whispered Stef, trying not to wake her further.

“Stop _brooding_ ,” Lena said, trying to draw her close enough to hold her. “They’re kids. They messed up. Get over it.”

“That excuse isn’t going to hold up much longer,” Stef warned, rolling into her partner’s embrace. “They’re getting older and they need to start learning that their actions have consequences.”

Lena blinked a little and sighed, “They do honey. I promise they do. They’re really upset for disappointing us.”

“I don’t think so,” grumped Stef. “I saw Brandon grinning at me the other day when he didn’t think I was looking. Grinning! As if he wasn’t in massive trouble!”

“You may be misinterpreting things, Stef,” said Lena, giving up sleep as a lost cause.

“Yeah? Like what?” Stef’s fingers began to creep under her partner’s pajama bottoms and stroke the silky skin there.

Lena rolled on her elbow, the sheet slipping down to expose her sleep-warmed skin. “Like it’s Mother’s Day,” she said matter-of-factly, “And I smell breakfast.”

Stef wrinkled her nose, “And?” her fingers crept lower.

“And the kids are going to be here in ten seconds,” said Lena, capturing her hand to remove it and giving her a kiss in one motion.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” yelled the children as they burst into the room.

Stef groaned a little and Lena smiled.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“So let’s see if I got this right,” said Stef, mashing the last of her crepe onto her fork. “You guys woke up Mrs. Baker this morning to borrow her crepe maker?”

“No way!” said Jesús. “We asked her last night if we could borrow it. She said we could because her husband’s taking her out to a fancy restaurant for breakfast this morning,” he was sitting as close to the edge of the bed as he dared. Stef was willing to bet that he’d fall of the bed at least three times before their conversation was over.

“This is delicious you guys,” said Lena, running her fork around the edge of the plate, “I can’t believe you managed to make crepes with a blueberry compote.”

“It’s just a recipe Mama,” Mariana blushed, snuggled in between her mothers. “We know how to read.”

“And we only ruined a few of them,” shrugged Brandon from his place at the foot of the bed.

“Well we’re very proud of you,” said Stef, tugging playfully at his foot.

“There’s something else,” said Brandon taking a deep breath. “Jesús?”

“We got you a present,” said Jesús, running out the door and grabbing a box that had been wrapped meticulously.

“Oh,” said Lena. “You guys didn’t have to do anything.”

“You’re the best present we could have,” added Stef.

“You guys say that every year,” said Mariana.

“And we mean it every year,” said Stef, tweaking her nose.

Stef let Lena open the present. “Oh my goodness,” said Lena as she unearthed the gift from all of it’s wrapping. The frame was large and contained at least a dozen pictures in various sizes. They were obviously, professionally done and by someone who knew what they were doing. Every inch of their children’s personalities were clearly on display.

“How did you guys do this?” said Stef, her voice admiring rather then accusing.

Mariana and Brandon traded looks that were simultaneously chagrined and proud.

“Remember when we were late?” Mariana began.

The mothers looked at their children in fond exasperation, “This is why you guys were late?” demanded Stef.

“Yup,” said Brandon cheekily. “Are we still grounded?”

“Until you're ninety,” said Stef, throwing him down onto the bed to tickle him.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

When Jesús showed them the frame that would hold their future family portrait, Lena got a little teary. “That’s beautiful Jesús. I can’t believe you made this all by yourself!”

“It’s gorgeous,” agreed Stef, kissing the children’s heads for what seemed like the tenth time.

Brandon groaned and threw himself across the bed, arms akimbo. “We get it Moms, you like the present,” his smirk belied his theatrical aggravation.

Mariana giggled, her pleasure at her mothers’ joy shining in her face. “We better go clean up. We’re going to do something fun today, right?” her voice uplifted on the last syllable, as if unsure of the answer.

“Yes,” said Lena, before Stef could make a joke. “Get the kitchen cleaned up and get changed. Mom and I will be out in a little while.”

The children squirmed off the bed as they argued who was going to do which chore. Lena followed them to the door, then closed it and locked it, turning to her partner with a smug expression on her face. She sauntered over to the bed and trapped Stef between her arms, nuzzling her neck before she kissed her. “So, still worried about how our kids are going to turn out?” she demanded.

“Not really,” said Stef with a goofy grin, wriggling a little to get into a better position.

“You gotta admit though, that took a lot of planning…on relatively short notice. That kind of devious thinking can only mean trouble for the future,” Stef gasped a little when Lena’s fingers grazed her side.

“We’ll be ready for them,” promised Lena, and she leaned in for another kiss.

 

 


	24. Sick Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a call-out here to one of my favorite books, The Average of Deviance. If you’ve read it, you’ll know what it is.

“Lena?” Even if the cell hadn’t identified him as such, Lena still would have known the little voice on the phone belonged to her favorite just-turned-six-year-old.

“Brandon?” Lena felt herself smile. “Is Mommy letting you make calls today?” This was a rare and recently forbidden  treat (due to a certain child calling a certain vice principal in the middle of an important meeting). Brandon loved to be able to talk on the phone. If it were his grandparents, his dad, or Lena he would pester Stef until he had a chance to talk. Actually, Stef got a certain grim delight in handing the phone off to him when telemarketers called. By the time he asked his hundredth question, the telemarketers would hang up in defeat.

“Ummm…kinda,” said the boy. “Are you really busy right now?”

Warning lights began flashing at his tentative tone and Lena looked around her brightly lit office and the piles of paper and files that had grown steadily larger as the days progressed. It was only a week since the summer break had began. As a school administrator, her work year included about thirty more days then the teaching staff, and a good part of that came from summer work. However, the lack of students and the fact that many people were on vacation slowed the pace of her job considerably…at least until about three weeks before the new school year began. “I’m not too busy,” she said. Something was off. “I could break for an early dinner.” It would be a very early dinner but she didn’t mind. Stef had seemed distracted the last few days. They hadn’t been able to talk long and she had canceled their dinner date on Monday.

“Could you come and see us. Please?” Brandon pleaded.

“What’s wrong?” Lena immediately began looking for her purse and sorting her papers so she could leave more quickly. There was hesitation on the phone. “Brandon?” she demanded.

“Mommy’s sick,” Brandon revealed. “I mean, she says she isn’t really sick but I know she really is sick ‘cause she was coughing a lot and she says she’s cold even though it’s really hot in the house.”

“How long has she been sick?” Lena was already locking her office door and heading down the hallway.

“Maybe a couple days? But today she hasn’t got out of bed at all and she keeps sleeping and coughing and I’m tryin’ to take of her but it’s really hard to do everything right.”

“That’s okay, honey,” she soothed. “What about your Daddy?”

“No,” she could practically hear his head shake. “Mommy said he was sick and I shouldn’t bother him.”

Lena bit her lip on the questions that wanted to follow as she opened her car door. “Your grandpa?”

“He’s on a church retreat,” the little boy informed her.

Lena sighed. Frank had been going on a lot of church retreats lately, ever since his daughter had revealed herself as a lesbian. She didn’t bother asking about Sharon, who was across the country in Florida. “Okay, Brandon. I’m on my way. I should be there in about ten minutes, okay?” She started the car and made her way out of the parking lot.

“You’re really coming?” the boy’s voice sounded tremulously hopeful.

“I am,” Lena confirmed. “Sit tight honey. I’ll see you in just a little bit.”

“Bye.”

Lena held the phone tightly as she made a sharp turn. She needed to get there and get a sense of what was going on. When she got to the townhouse that Stef and Brandon called home, she slammed the brakes a little too hard and was immediately choked in retaliation by her seatbelt. “Argh,” she grumbled, twisting out of the sinuous embrace and practically running to the door. She knocked sharply.

Little feet pattered over to the door. “Who is it?” asked Brandon.

“It’s Lena,” she responded. She could hear the scraping of a chair and realized he must be standing on it so he could see through the peephole. “You be careful on that chair,” she warned, inwardly sighing at the delay. He was such a cops’ kid.

She heard the chain being removed and the door being unlocked, before she was nearly knocked down by a tiny missile in Batman underwear. “Lena, I’m so glad you’re here!” Brandon yelled, hugging her with an enthusiasm that bordered on desperation.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said, picking him up for a hug. There was a sheen of sweat on his body and his chest was liberally decorated with streaks of color. She looked closer. Paint? Marker?...Popsicle? “What’s going on?” She stepped into the townhome and was met by a blast of heat. “What the-?” she looked down at the boy.

“Mommy kept saying she was cold and she kicked off the blankets I put on her,” he explained, still clinging to her.

Lena looked around the apartment. While it wasn’t a complete disaster, the house was very clearly not up to it’s usual standard. The television was on, and in front of it lay the detritus of a young child who’d obviously been left to his own devices for some time. Crayons, coloring books, Matchbox cars, and popsicle wrappers were piled around sofa cushions which had been either used to make a fort…or a nest of some kind. “Okay. Why don’t you clean up and I’ll go check on your mommy?” Lena said, beginning to put him down and moving quickly to Stef’s room.

“Noooo,” he whined immediately, “Wanna go with you!” He tucked his hand into her back pocket firmly and followed along, as faithful as a baby duck.

“Alright, alright,” she said, patting his head absent-mindedly. She was relieved when he disengaged at the door and contented himself with peeking around the doorway. Stef’s room was messier then the living room. Clearly, Brandon had tried to “help” because there were small plates of snack foods and glasses with various levels of water and what had to be juice placed randomly about the room.  Stef was breathing noisily, half-covered in blankets. The room also smelled quite badly. “Has your mom been throwing up?” she asked the boy, noticing a basin and a trashcan with vomit residue as she leaned over to press her wrist against Stef’s forehead.

“Nu-huh,” Brandon said. “Only a little when she was coughing really, really hard. I tried to clean up…” his voice trailed off.

“It’s fine honey. Stef? Stef? Wake up sweetheart.” Stef groaned and wearily batted her hands against Lena’s. “Stef?” Lena shook her a little more firmly and was gratified when Stef’s eyes blinked open.

“Lena?” asked Stef wearily. What’re you doing here?”

Lena ignored the question. “Yeah, honey, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“Like crap.”

“What are your symptoms?” Lena asked.

Stef shrugged weakly. “Cold. Coughing. I just need to sleep a little more,” her eyes began to droop.

“No, Stef, you need to stay awake and talk to me. Have you called the doctor?”

“Don’t need doctor,” Stef mumbled, “Jus-” she began coughing then; a horrible, wet cough that shook her entire body and left her red in the face.

Lena grabbed a pile of tissue and held them next to Stef’s mouth as she spat out a green colored mucus. She frowned distastefully and dropped it into the trashcan. “I’m calling your doctor,” she said bluntly. “You probably have bronchitis or something.”

“Noooo,” Stef whined, sounding very much like her son. “Jus’ need res’ thas all.”

“Where’s your doctor’s number?” Lena asked, sounding very no-nonsense.  “Tell me, or I’m taking you to the emergency room.” Stef’s eyes blinked open again, wheezing in the silence. “I am not kidding with you Stef. You tell me right now or-”.

“Kitchen,” wheezed Stef in defeat. “In my calendar. Left drawer, next to the stove.”

Lena stood up, feeling both exasperated and worried, and went back through the door. Brandon latched onto her pocket again and trailed after her. “Mommy’s going to be okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Lena firmly. “We’re going to take her to the doctor’s office and everything will be fine.” She located the drawer and found the calendar. Turning to the back she found the section for important phone numbers. She made the call to the doctor’s office. She was informed that there would be an hour and forty-five minute wait, but that was still ten times better then waiting in the local emergency room. “Okay,” she said after the call, after locating some ice packs in the freezer. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to get your Mom cleaned up after I get her cooled down. You’re going to take a bath and then clean up the living room. Understand?”

Brandon looked at her, “Are you going to cool her down with the ice packs?” he asked.

“Yes honey. She’s way too hot right now. In fact, the entire house is,” she said, realizing she was starting to sweat. She moved to the temp controls and moved it back down to it’s usual setting. 

She turned when she felt the grip on her pocket slacken, then release. Pools of tears were building in his eyes. “I did it bad?” he asked, beginning to sniffle.

“Oh, no honey. Not at all,” she reached down to scoop him in her arms. “You did a really good job of taking care of Mommy,” she soothed him. “I can see you brought her food and water. That’s very important when people are sick.”

“That’s what Mommy does for me,” he said, his blue eyes evaluating her to see if she was lying to him, trying to make him feel better. “I tried to do it right, but I don’t think I did,” his lower lip wobbled and he looked near tears again.

“You did great,” Lena said, taking his chin firmly in her hand. “It must have been very scary for you when Mommy got sick,” she felt a little sick herself, not knowing how long he had sat there, wondering when help would arrive.

“Mommy’s going to be mad at me,” he said seriously. “I’m not s’pposed to bother you at work and I did anyway. She’s gonna yell.”

“You did exactly right. If there’s something you need, you can always count on me Brandon, I promise.” He nodded, clearly unsure. “And if your Mommy gets mad at you for bothering me…let’s just say I’ll have some words for her.”

Shocked surprise made the tears dry up immediately. “ _You’re_ going to yell at Mommy?”

“Only if she gives me lip,” Lena promised with a kiss to his forehead. “Now let’s go get your bath ready. I want you to make sure you change too.”

“But I like Batman, Lena.”

“Find another superhero to wear today buddy, because Batman’s had it.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Hey sweetheart,” said Lena softly as she entered the room and sat on the bed next to her girlfriend, “You aren’t going to like this, but we need to get your fever down.” Stef groaned a little. “Brandon?” she asked, opening her eyes a crack.

“He’s having a bath.”

“Have you fed him breakfast? Mus’ be hungry,” said Stef, her eyes closing again.

“Stef,” said Lena. “It’s nearly 3:00 in the afternoon. You’ve been in bed all day. Brandon called me.”

“What?” the adrenaline that flushed through her system pushed her wide awake. “What’d you mean? It can’t be that late?” She looked around wildly, her hair sticking up in all directions, trying to focus on her alarm clock. “What…what day is it?” she said, looking so bewildered and anxious that Lena’s heart broke a little.

“It’s Thursday hon. You’ve probably been sick since Sunday night,” Lena put a calming hand against Stef’s cheek, and Stef closed her eyes and leaned into the coolness.

“Thursday?” she asked weakly. “Brandon?” her voice was more urgent, clearly realizing now that her son had been fending for himself for the day.

“He’s _fine_ ,” Lena emphasized. “Maybe a bit of a brain freeze from too many popsicles,” she amended, trying to make her partner smile.

From the stricken look in her lover’s eyes, Lena could see that did not make her feel better. “I didn’t realize…I didn’t…”

“That’s because you’re sick, Stef. But we’re going to get your fever down and get you to the doctor’s. First things first,” she unfurled the towel that held the icepacks, then lifted one of Stef’s arms. She put a towel-wrapped icepack under her arm, then repeated it with the second.

“What’re you doing?” Stef shivered violently, nearly dislodging the icepacks.

“Uh-uh. This will help you cool down. I don’t want to dump you in a cold shower. The would be too much of a shock for your system,” she put another icepack on the back of Stef’s neck.

Stef frowned. “Don’t like it,” she said.

“You’re going to hate this then,” Lena muttered. “Sorry honey.”

“Sorry for wh- Holy shit Lena!” Stef practically yelped when Lena placed an icepack on her groin. “What’re you doing?” she glared at Lena as she tried to remove the offending icepack.

“No,” said Lena firmly, placing her hand over the icepack. “These are natural pulse points in the body. Cooling them down will make your whole body cool down faster.”

“Lena,” Stef struggled a little more, the cold permeating her body, making her shake.

“No,” said Lena again. “Trust me sweetheart. I’m helping you.”

Stef lay in the bed, shaking too hard to answer. She drew the covers to her chin and watched Lena with slightly glazed eyes. Lena stroked her hair back from her face, and Stef could feel herself relaxing. After about five minutes, her head started to feel a little clearer, and she smiled shakily at her lover, “You know if you wanted to try new things in bed, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ice? That’s tame stuff lover,” teased Lena.

Stef blinked at her, “Really?” her voice was unsure. Lena smirked at her. “Oh that’s nice,” muttered Stef, sounding more sure by the minute. “Tease the sick, just-figuring-out-she’s-a-lesbian-woman with sex jokes.”

“Uh-huh,” said Lena, her smile a little wider. Stef making a joke was a good sign. “Just wait until I show you the notches on my bedpost.”

“I’ve seen your bedpost.”

“I hid the part with the notches so you wouldn’t be intimidated.”

“You can’t be that good,” Stef shot back. “You were the one asking for dating tips from my kid.”

Lena instantly blushed. Early on in their relationship she had maybe, kind of asked Brandon what his mother’s favorite color was…and what kind of flowers she liked…and also her favorite foods. It might have gone unnoticed but one day when he was marching down the hall with his kindergarten class on his way to recess, he had stopped to whisper in great conspiracy, “I forgot to tell you yesterday Ms. Adams, my mom likes chocolate a lot! The dark kind, not milk chocolate.” Naturally his whisper had managed to carry down half the hallway and induced several other kindergartners to tell her what _their_ mommies liked. Quite embarrassing. When she finally told Stef, the woman had laughed hysterically for about ten minutes then said, “You understand you’re getting dating advice from someone who was in diapers three years ago?”

The assistant vice-principal tossed her hair a little, trying to rid her mind of that conversation. “That was just insurance.”

Stef snorted, “Yeah, right.” She began tracing her fingers over Lena’s, too sick to enjoy anything more then the skin-on-skin comfort touching Lena gave her. Then for what seemed like the fiftieth time in their conversation, she coughed, a deep wracking cough that made her feel like she was being split into two.

“Oh, honey,” said Lena gently, using a washcloth to wipe off her face.

“I hate being sick. I hate it,” Stef muttered.

“You’ll feel better once you get to the doctor,” Lena told her. She leaned down, pressing her cheek to Stef’s face. “I think you’re starting to feel cooler. We should get you in the shower, then we’ll get going,” Lena said, starting to get up from the bed.

“Can we take the ice off my…” Stef trailed off and motioned to her groin.

“Give it a little while longer. I’m going to clean up a little, get fresh sheets, and check on Brandon. Then, we’ll shower.”

“We?” Stef raised an eyebrow, trying to salacious but only managing to sound hopeful.

Lena gave her a wink in reply.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

After she had opened the windows and deposited the vomit encrusted basins outside to be washed with the hose later, Stef’s bedroom began to smell better.  She checked on Stef long enough to dump the sheets off, then went to find Brandon. He was busy dismantling his fort. She walked over to him, letting her hand rest on his damp head. She leaned down to give a sniff, “Well you’re a lot cleaner,” she said, giving his stomach a little tickle. He nodded, giving her a grin. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll make you a sandwich and then we’ll have dinner when we get back from the doctor’s office,” she told him. “PB and J?”

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’ve had a lot of peanut butter. Turkey? With cheese, please?”

“Okay.”

She made the sandwich quickly and settled him at the table. “After you eat, why don’t you make your mom a get well card? I’m going to help her with the shower, and by the time you’re done, we’ll be done too.”

He nodded, swallowed carefully, then spoke, “Okay Lena.”

“Good boy,” she gave him a kiss then went to check on Stef. The other woman was asleep, looking pale against the sheets. Lena hated to wake her but she knew Stef would hate going out in public in this state. Besides, the steam would help with her cough. Quickly, she removed the ice packs and gently shook her girlfriend. “Stef? Honey? Wake up. We’re going to take a shower, go to the doctor’s, then you can rest as long as you want.”

“Shower, yes. Doctor, no,” Stef managed to sound both pathetic and intransigent. “I feel better now, I do.”

“Stefanie Foster,” in two words Lena was able to sound both threatening and resolved.

“Fine,” Stef was subdued, remembering that her illness had caused her son to essentially be abandoned.

It didn’t take long to undress her, but Lena had underestimated Stef’s weakness. They were able to get to the shower, but Stef was distinctly shaky. “Here,” Lena sat her on the lowered toilet lid and turned the shower on. Soon steam filled the tiny bathroom. Stef closed her eyes, enjoying the effect it had on her lungs. Lena stripped them both down. “Okay, let’s do this.” She got Stef into the shower, letting the other woman lean heavily against her.

She ran the washcloth over Stef’s skin and massaged shampoo gently into Stef’s hair. That part Stef let herself enjoy completely. She closed her eyes against the spray. “I can’t believe I’m in the shower with a beautiful woman and all I can think of is how warm the water is and how good her scalp massage feels.”

Lena chuckled, kissing her lightly behind her ear, “There will be other showers sweetheart.” She did let her hands move north, then south, for a few minutes. A promise…for better things to come. She stopped quickly when Stef began coughing again. “Okay. Let’s get you out of here.”

Leaving the shower was more difficult. The whole ordeal had been a bit much, and Stef felt as weak as a day-old kitten. They paused to rest often, and when they reentered the bedroom, Lena used three towels to wrap around Stef’s body and hair. “Whoa,” said Stef at the vigorous rub-down.

“Just for a minute,” Lena said. She toweled off quickly, then got dressed. She got Stef into the sweats and long-sleeved t-shirt, then grabbed a hairdryer and set it on stun.

“Holy shit Lena,” Stef gasped into the tornado that managed to dry out her eyeballs and practically singe her nose hairs.

“You don’t need a wet head on top of everything else,” Lena informed her. She changed the sheets and tucked Stef in to rest for a few minutes, then strode back into the living room.

“I made Mommy a card, Lena,” said Brandon immediately pushing up from his stomach to trot over to her.

“That’s great honey,” she said distractedly, “I want you to go get your backpack and get some books and things to bring with you to the doctor’s office. Quiet things only please, and be quick. I’m going to get my car and bring it to the front so Mommy doesn’t have so far to go.”

“Okay Lena,” Brandon ran towards his room.

Within minutes she was back, not letting the weariness gain a foothold. She collected Stef and Brandon and got them to the car. The ride to the doctor’s office was quiet. Stef kept falling asleep, her head tilted at an angle on the window. Brandon sat quietly, unwilling to disturb her slumber.

The first snag came at the receptionist’s desk. “And you are?”

“I’m Lena Adams. I called in an appointment for Stef Foster,” Lena said, nodding at her lover who was slumped wearily on an uncomfortable office chair.

“And what’s your relation to the patient?” the receptionist asked.

“I’m her…friend,” said Lena after a beat.

“A friend,” said the receptionist, no doubt picking up on the hesitation in Lena’s tone.

“Yes,” said Lena, feeling almost instantly irritated, “Her friend.”

“Lena and Mommy are bestest, bestest friends,” piped Brandon, appearing at her side as if by magic.

The receptionist smiled a trifle formally, “I understand, but as per Hippa regulations, I need to get the information from the patient herself.”

Lena sighed, but nodded her understanding. She helped Stef over to the counter, watching anxiously as the other women slowly, but deliberately gave her information and produced the appropriate insurance card. She sighed again, impatient with the proceedings, wanting to get her lover seated again so she could rest.

She felt a small hand slip into her own, “Mommy’s going to be alright, right? We got her to the doctor’s.”

Lena squeezed Brandon’s hand. “Definitely,” she assured him.  A decision came to her a few minutes later, sitting in the adjacent chair with her lover’s head resting on her shoulder and her son coloring quietly in the chair, again as she listened as Stef admitted (with a lowered head) that the doctor had diagnosed her with walking pneumonia, then later as she drove to the pharmacy to pick up Stef’s prescription and settled them both back home - she wanted this. Not the Stef-being-sick part, but the being-there part. She could do this for the rest of her life, but not as Stef’s “bestest” friend. She wanted a partner. A wife. She had been reluctantly content with what they had, but it was different now. She wanted to be there, everyday. She wanted to wake up to Stef’s face in the morning and talk to her every night. She wanted to make breakfast for Brandon and help him with his homework. She wanted a family. And hadn’t she already been thinking of them as hers, for months? In all honesty, since she had begun her relationship with Stef, she had been unable to think of sharing her life with anyone else. She wanted this and she knew that Stef wanted it too. It was time for one of them to be brave enough to take the next step.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“You’re having a sleepover with us?” Brandon asked in delight. “That’s so cool! I bet nobody else has had a sleepover with their vice-principals!”

Lena smirked inwardly. She and Stef had managed many “sleepovers” during their time together, always when Brandon was gone…and one memorable time when they had accidently fallen asleep and she had to sneak out before he woke up. Being with one of her students’ parents presented an interesting conundrum. “I am buddy,” she told him, “But I think it would be best not to be talking about it with the other kids.” Lena’s wince after this request was inward and outward. Could anything make her feel more skeevy then asking a six year old to lie for her? “You know, so they don’t get jealous.” Now _sh_ e was lying. It made the list at number 568 of Reasons Why They Should Move in Together.

“Okay.” This was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the boy. “Can we have pasketti tonight?”

“Let’s make it a little easier on your mom,” Lena told him. “Soup and sandwiches tonight. Grilled cheese,” she added, when she saw the disappointment on his face, “And tomorrow we’ll try for spaghetti.”

“Okay,” he gave her a quick hug, then looked up at her, his arms wound tightly around her legs, “I’m really glad you’re here Lena.”

She touched his hair, stroking the silky softness there, “I am too,” she said quietly.

While Brandon was ensconced in some Lego project, Lena went to check on Stef, who had nearly immediately dropped off to sleep when Lena deposited her there. She managed to crack her eye open, “Everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine,” Lena padded over to the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers around them. “I’m going to spend the night.”

“W-but, I thought that wasn’t such a good idea,” said Stef, her voice slightly hoarse from coughing.

“Screw it,” said Lena flatly. Stef’s eyes widened a little in surprise. Lena forged ahead. “You know what I realized today?” Stef shook her head, looking worried. “I’m tired of this.” To her horror, Stef’s eyes filled with tears. Lena backtracked immediately. “Oh honey, I’m not tired of you. I’m tired of trying to hide this. I’m tired of pretending that we don’t mean what we mean to one another.” She cupped Stef’s face in her hands. “I love you Stef Foster. Even when you’re being bull-headed enough to think that ignoring pneumonia will make it go away.”

Stef’s flushed cheeks crimsoned more deeply. “I love you too,” she said softly. “More and more every day. Every minute.”

Lena took a deep breath. “I want to move in together.” Stef’s brow furrowed as she looked around her plain room. “Not here. Not in my place either,” Lena continued. “I want to find a house. Our house. I want to stop living with maybes and possibilities. I want to start our life together.”

Stef drew in a shaky breath. “I want that too,” she said. “I’ve been so scared. Scared because I’ve been…so unsure of myself. But even in all that uncertainty, I have been absolutely confident of how much I love you,” she ran her thumb over her lover’s cheek.

They leaned in almost simultaneously and pressed their foreheads together. Their lips touched in the barest of kisses before Stef pulled away reluctantly. “No matter what the cheesy romance movies would have you believe, it is not glamorous to kiss someone who’s been coughing up their lungs for the past few days.”

Lena’s eyes smoldered a little but she didn’t protest. Much. “Later,” she promised, kissing Stef on the head instead.

“Later,” Stef echoed.

They lay in the bed, quietly soaking in their intimacy. Lena thought her lover had fallen asleep when she gave a hum of anticipation.

“What?” Lena asked, sitting up on her elbow.

“Well when we get our new place, you know what that means, right?”

“What?” Lena repeated.

“We’ll need to christen all the rooms,” Stef’s grin was all teeth. “You think you’re up for it?”

Lena’s grin was equally puckish, “Sweetheart? Let’s just say you better get some rest while you can.”

Stef’s delighted chuckle echoed in the room.


	25. The Name is the Thing

 

Jesús tapped his cheek thoughtfully with his pencil as he looked at the paper. It wasn’t the spelling test he was worried about, he had practiced with his moms every night that week. The problem was the name he was going to write on the paper. The first part was easy. Jesús. He was always Jesús, no matter what. But the last name…that was something different. That required more thought, and it had been something he had been thinking about a lot. Mom and Mama loved him, he knew that. He also knew that they were trying to adopt them. Something he was not supposed to know, was that his mom…his other mom…his birth mom Ana…was holding up the proceedings. He had come across this knowledge both accidentally and recently. One night he had crept down the stairs, intent on trying to get some food to eat in his bed – crackers were a bad choice because they left too many crumbs but sandwiches made an excellent snack – when he heard his mothers talking.

“This isn’t a good sign, is it?” Stef asked, looking at her partner.

Lena pursed her lips, looking at the papers in her hands, “No,” she agreed softly.

“Dammit,” Stef swore, vehemently but quietly, “I cannot believe that woman. I really can’t.”

“Stef-“ Lena rubbed her forehead, “Can you imagine how difficult this is for her?”

“No Lena, because I would never have chosen drugs over my children in the first place. I don’t give a damn how she feels about anything.”

Jesús sucked in his breath, there was only one woman they his mothers could be talking about. He took another quiet step down the stairs.

“Well unfortunately, we do have to deal with how she’s feeling and what she’s thinking because it effects the twin’s adoption,” Lena’s voice was heated.

Stef’s eyes dropped and some of the anger went out of her stance, “I know.”

Lena saw the dispiritedness in her partner, and walked around the table to put her arms around her. “It’s frustrating. I hate it,” she admitted quietly, “But we’re not going to let that stop us. We’re not going to give up. The twins are already ours, the papers only make it legal.”

Stef picked up her partner’s hand and kissed the open palm, “You’re right, as usual, my love.” Her voice grew determined, “We’ll just keep going until it happens.”

Jesús crept up the stairs, feeling confused and a little upset. It was good that his moms wanted to keep them, it was, but even a little kid like him knew that _The Papers_ were important. Without _The Papers_ , he and Mariana could be moved, away from his mothers and his brother and the home that he loved. There was even the terrifying possibility that he could be separated from his sister, from his twin. He went back to bed, but he had trouble sleeping.

The next morning he had been more quiet then usual, causing both his mothers to ask him what was wrong. He shook his head each time, merely claiming that a bad night’s sleep was to blame. At school he dragged his brother way from his usual group of friends and found a quiet place to talk. He couldn’t talk to Mariana about this, it would only scare her, but he could talk to Brandon. After telling him the story, he saw from the dark look in his brother’s eyes, and the way he looked away that he had known some of this already. “You knew!” he yelled, giving him a punch in the arm.

Brandon grimaced, but not from the punch, “I knew a little bit,” he admitted. “I knew Ana was doing something that was making it harder to adopt you.” He restrained himself from adding anything derogatory.

From the smoldering look in Jesús’s eyes, Brandon knew he wasn’t forgiven. “You knew!” Jesús repeated, managing to sound both angry and hurt. “You’re s’pposed to tell me stuff. You’re s’pposed to be my brother.”

“I didn’t want you to be all worried about the adoption,” Brandon said. “And you don’t have to be, Mom and Mama will fix this. Honest. It’s just papers anyway,” he repeated, something their mothers had told them on several occasions.

Jesús sighed, looking a little worried now instead of angry. “You’re sure?” He needed the reassurance.

“Yeah,” said Brandon firmly, he didn’t doubt it, “Moms will figure it out. They told us they would. They promised.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Jesús looked down at his test paper once again. Papers shouldn’t mean so much, but they did. They were the difference between staying-maybe and staying-for-sure or staying-forever.  He couldn’t do much about his adoption papers. That was a grown-up thing, but he could do something about the papers around him. Maybe his papers could be like a wish. If you believed it enough, if you wished enough, it would happen. In his neatest hand, the one he hardly used, he carefully wrote his name at the top of the paper, Jesús Foster.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“That’s your brother?” Celia asked, sounding confused. She was new to the school. It was Mariana’s job to show her where the water fountains and the bathrooms were and to make sure people were nice to her. Mariana was very good at this job because she knew what it was like to be new and her mama was the assistant vice principal so she knew eeeeverything about the school.

“Hey shrimp,” said Brandon affectionately pulling her braid as he passed by with a couple of his friends.

“I’m not a shrimp,” she said automatically slapping at his hands. He only smirked at her.

“Uh-huh,” said Mariana, deciding to ignore the bewilderment in the other girl’s voice. She didn’t feel like explaining it, she was tired of explaining it. They continued walking to the cafeteria, meeting the rest of their class for lunch. Mariana scanned quickly for Lexi, smiling when the other girl waved wildly from their second favorite table. “Let’s get our food and sit with Lexi,” Mariana said.

Celia nodded, “Is the food good here? The food at my last school sucked.”

“It’s okay,” said Mariana. “Not as good as my Mom’s, but it’s still pretty good,” she said as they lined up to get their food.

“Your mom cooks?”

“Uh-huh. Does yours?”

“Yeah. She likes cooking fancy food. I don’t mind as long as she doesn’t make me try everything.” Celia chose pizza and then filled the smaller sections of the tray with orange slices, cucumber, and sunflower seeds.

“My mom does that too,” laughed Mariana. “Except she always says we at least have to try three bites before we make a decision. My brother Jesús likes almost everything but if he doesn’t like it he’ll take his first bite and say “yuck”, then he takes the second bite and says “yuckier” and then he’ll take the third bite and say “yuckiest.”” She also chose pizza but she added orange slices and pineapple bits beside a pile of carrots.

“What does you mom do when he does that?”

“The first time he did it, Mama looked mad but Mom laughed and said we should send a note to his teacher about his fabulous use of superlative adjectives,” Mariana giggled. She had been pleased that she had been able to understand the grownup joke.

“Hey – wait a second. Did you say mom and mama? What do you mean?” Celia asked.

Mariana walked a little faster to Lexi’s table, pretending like she hadn’t heard the other girl. “Hi Lexi,” she said to her friend, giving her a little smile.

“Hi Mari! Did you see Hayley?”

“Mariana!” Celia walked over to the table sounding aggrieved, “didn’t you hear me?”

“No,” Mariana lied, eyes wide, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said-”

“Ohmigosh!” Lexi interrupted enthusiastically, “You guys have to hear what happened to Emily! It _just_ happened and everyone knows about it!”

“What?” asked Mariana and Celia. Mariana was relieved, at least she was going to be able to avoid the question for now. She saw Lexi wink at her and she smiled back. It was great to have a best friend who always knew how to help, no matter what. Mariana couldn’t imagine not having Lexi in her life.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Jesús Gutierrez.”

Jesús studiously ignored Mrs. Thomas.

“Jesús?” she said insistently.

Slowly he looked up with an innocent expression, “Yes Mrs. Thomas?”

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” the woman asked, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a blue dry erase marker.

The little boy blinked at the subtraction bar model that was displayed on the board, then back at his teacher, “No ma’am. I thought you were talking to someone else.”

The faintest smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, “Well, you are the only Jesús in the classroom,” she reminded him gently.

“Uh-huh, but you called me Jesús Gutierrez. That isn’t my name. My name’s Jesús Foster.”

Mrs. Thomas, who had about twenty years of classroom experience nodded her head thoughtfully. She certainly hadn’t been blind to the fact that Jesús had been signing his papers as Jesús Foster for the last week and a half. However, it was apparent he was beginning to take it to the next level. She would need to talk to Lena, but for now, she decided to let his self-expression go unchecked. “Alright, _Mr_. Foster,” she said, a trifle formally, “Why don’t you tell me what the next step is to solve the problem?”

His smile was so blinding she was sorry to tell him when he got the answer wrong. It didn’t diminish his grin.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

At recess there were some differing opinions about his declaration. “You told Mrs. Thomas your name was Jesús Foster,” said Cole, who was significantly bigger than Jesús, “that’s not true. I’ve known you since second grade.”

“Things change,” said Jesús simply, something he had been told on multiple occasions.

“Or maybe you’re a superhero and you have two names,” the tone was mocking as Jacob shoved a finger into his chest.

“Is that right, Batman, do you have two names?” said Alex in a babyish tone.

Jesús pulled a face, “Are you guys stupid or something? Batman’s cool and when he’s Bruce Wayne he’s rich. He’s awesome with both of his names.”

The boys frowned at one another, considering this, then Cole shoved him a little, “Are you calling us stupid?”

“Are you calling Batman lame?” Jesús sassed, trying to look for a way to escape if things got violent.

“What’s going on?”

Jesús grinned when he saw his brother, standing with his arms folded. The odds were definitely better now. He ran over to his brother, standing next to him so their arms touched.

Cole scowled a little. Brandon was known to have no problems fighting dirty if he was outnumbered, and Cole had the sore balls from last year to prove it. “He says his name is Jesús Foster,” his tone was challenging.

Brandon didn’t blink, “duh, he’s my brother.”

“He’s not your real brother,” said Alex.

“Says who?” asked Brandon, clenching his fist and moving forward a little.

The three boys looked at one another, where had they heard that? It wasn’t something that they heard, just something they knew. After some careful thought, Jacob finally grinned in triumph. “What’s your _sister’s_ name then?”

“Mariana Foster,” said Jesús after the barest hesitation.

“Maybe we should just ask her then,” said Alex, catching the hesitation and wearing his own grin.

“You leave her alone,” Brandon said flatly, just as Jesús leaned forward and shoved Alex, hard, “you better not!”

The other boy stumbled back into Cole who surged forward right as Brandon stepped into him. In a moment all five boys were on the ground in a disorganized melee. The ear-splitting whistle of the recess supervisor broke the boys up as they looked at one another and simultaneously broke apart and ran. Jesús and Brandon had the edge of knowing the nooks and crannies of Anchor Beach extremely well.  Without even talking they headed in the same direction. Within moments they had ducked into a alcove and rolled under the dense bushes. They looked at one another, breathing hard. “So,” said Brandon brightly after a minute of hard breathing, “you got something to tell me?”

“Remember when we talked about the adoption?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired of waiting.  I decided to do something about it.”

Brandon looked thoughtful, “you changed your name?”

“Yeah,” Jesús said looking proud, then he looked at his brother, his _foster_ brother, a little anxiously, “that’s ok, right?”

“Duh. What do you think?”

The superior tone reassured Jesús immediately. “What’d you think Moms will think?”

“What do you think Captain Obvious?”

Jesús leaned over and gave Brandon an unexpected hug, smearing more dirt on him, “thanks Brandon.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Recess is almost over. We better get to class before our teachers tell Mama.”

Jesús peered out from under the bushes, “I think the coast is clear,” he said, as he looked over his shoulder at his brother.

Brandon joined him in the alcove and looked at him critically, “you better dust off,” he advised him, “you look like you were rolling around in the dirt.”

“That’s ‘cause I was,” Jesús said. “You look pretty bad yourself.”

Brandon looked down at his clothes and sighed, “yeah.” He began patting at his clothes. The boys looked at one another and nodded their acceptance before moving out of their hiding place and walking along the breezeway. “What’d do you think Mariana’s gonna say?” asked Brandon.

“She’ll wants to change her name too. She’s scarder then me about being taken away.”

Brandon stopped. “I told you that wasn’t going to happen. Moms promised. You believe me, right?”

“Ye-es,” said Jesús slowly, “but the papers are really, really important Brandon. We need them. I don’t want to leave you and Mom and Mama. I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t want to have to go away again ever, ever again.”

Brandon grabbed his shoulders, making eye contact. “I swear Jesús, we won’t let that happen. Me and Mom and Mama would fight them. Well, Mama would probably talk to them but that’s just as good.  We would never let you be stolen away from us.”

Jesús sighed a little and leaned into him, “I want the papers now,” he said.

“Me too,” Brandon patted his back.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

As usual, Mariana made her way to Lena’s office after school, only to find her brothers were already there. They sat on opposite sides of the room wearing similar glum expressions. She put her hands on her hips, “what did you do?”

“Stupid tattletales got us in trouble,” Jesús grumbled.

“Got in a fight,” clarified Brandon simply, “got caught.”

Mariana rolled her eyes, “at school? Mama’s going to kill you.”

Brandon plucked at the button on his shirt. Not only would Mama be mad at them, Mom would be mad at them for making trouble for Mama. “Probably.”

Jesús kicked the wall disconsolately. He’d wanted so badly to ask his moms about the name change but it was ruined because now they were going to be in bad moods for sure. He looked at his sister, “do you want to change your name?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to be Jesús Foster, no matter what people say. I mean…unless…,” he hesitated, “do you want to be Mariana Foster?”

She looked at Jesús, then Brandon. “Of course I do. That’s why we’re getting adopted, so we can stay with Mama and Mom and Brandon forever.”

Jesús made a sound of frustration, going so far as to kick the wall again, “but I mean now. Don’t you want to be Mariana Foster now? I’m sick of having to wait all the time.”

Mariana studied her brother’s face. There was a familiar set to his chin, an identical trait they shared when they dug in their heels about something. “What if Moms get mad?” she asked in a small voice.

“They won’t be mad, not about that,” said Brandon, “I can guarantee you the only thing they’re going to be mad about is that Jesús and I got caught fighting at school.”

“But it’s not legal.  We can’t do it for real.”

Jesús looked at her uncertainly, then looked at Brandon, “is that true?”

“You’re already doing it,” said Brandon. “Has Mrs. Thomas arrested you?”

Jesús licked his lips, “nuh-uh, but will I get in trouble from someone?”

This time, Brandon hesitated, “I don’t _think_ so,” he said, unwilling to give them false advice, “it won’t matter to other people like it matters to us.”

“I don’t care,” Mariana piped suddenly, fiercely. “If Moms won’t be mad I wanna do it. I wanna be Mariana Foster then when people ask me about my family I can tell them and they won’t be so confused.”

“They’ll probably still be confused,” admitted Brandon, shoving his hands in his pockets, “but who cares what they think?” Mariana opened her mouth and Brandon waved a hand, “I know you care, and we all care, in some ways. But we’re probably always going to get weird looks and stupid questions.”

Jesús smirked a little, remembering a month ago when they were out shopping with Mom and some lady stopped them all and looked at them and asked in syrupy tones, “and where did these two little angels come from?” which was really just a way of asking why they weren’t white like their Mom and Brandon and if they’d been snuck across the border in some taco truck or something.

“God,” Brandon had said without cracking a grin or taking his eyes off her.

The lady had made some kind of noise and hurried off. Mom had smothered a chuckle then whapped their brother lightly across the back of his head and called him a smart aleck.

“It doesn’t change anything,” said Brandon, “And you know what?”

The twins shook their heads.

“Screw everyone else. You guys deserve to be called whatever you want to be.”

A smile spread over Mariana’s face. Jesús looked at his brother sideways, then grinned a little, “I think I’m going to call myself Batman.”

“If ever you needed a secret identity, it would be now… _Batman_.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“So what’s going to happen with the boys?” Stef asked, trying to slice up almonds to go into the salad. “Why don’t we by the sliced almonds, I’ve nearly cut off my own fingers twelve times tonight?”

“Do you know how expensive sliced almonds are?” Lena shook her head at the ridiculous idea. “All the boys are losing their recess for the week. They will be helping to clean the classrooms during that time.  I had to modify it for Jesús though, you know what would happen if he didn’t have a chance to get out some of his energy,” Lena rolled her eyes expressively.

“Ah yes,” said Stef, leaning back against the counter in pretend reminiscence, “that would be the time he actually climbed the walls. Good times.”

“Yeah, he’ll be jogging at recess instead. Then after school he can clean.” Lena carefully placed herb encrusted chicken breasts on a platter and put it into the oven.

“So did you ever find out what it was about?”

Lena went over to the sink and began washing her hands, “Not from our boys. The other boys tried to pin it on them, but there’s no way Brandon started that fight and Jesús doesn’t usually hang out with them. Carol told me something though, that could have started it.”

“What was it?” asked Stef as she began taking plates out of the cupboard.

“She said that Jesús has been signing his papers as Jesús Foster for the past week or so.”

Stef put the plates down and looked at her partner, “Yeah?”

“Apparently so. She feels bad, she said she should have brought it to my attention sooner but she’s been a little overwhelmed by the new individual reading assessments she’s supposed to be doing, you know, while she’s teaching the other twenty-five kids.”

Stef let Lena’s barb about the state testing requirements float right past her, “huh, that’s interesting. Must be about the adoption, right?”

“Well, it’s certainly some relation to it,” Lena sighed and nibbled her lower lip. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Stef frowned a little, “well he’s not hurting anything, right? Why not just let him sign his papers the way he wants?”

“Stef,” Lena sighed heavily.

“What?”

“They’re not…they’re not ours yet,” Lena felt her voice catch and tears came to her eyes, just saying those words hurt her heart. “What happens if Ana screws this up for us or if DCHS decides to just…swoop in and take them away?” She rubbed at her eyes as she was enfolded in her lover’s warm embrace. “How could we do that to them?” she asked softly. “With everything else, give them a name only to have it taken away?”

Stef kissed her temple, trying to think of what to say. Everything Lena had said was true, but she couldn’t imagine that happening. Jesús and Mariana were their children.  If anyone tried to take Brandon she would… “it won’t happen,” she finally said, a lump in her throat. “If they try to take the twins we’ll do whatever we need to do. We won’t let them be taken from us.”

Lena leaned back in her embrace to look at her, eyes faintly damp, she nodded, “yes,” she said softly. Then she smiled wryly, “Bill’s going to have something to say about this.”

Stef snorted, “I love Bill, but screw him. They’ve waited long enough.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena and Stef climbed the stairs together, holding hands. They heard muted whispering so they eased up the rest of the stairs soundlessly. Mariana was splayed across the hallway on her stomach, her head crooked towards crack underneath Jesús’s door. She nodded at whatever was being said, then turned to Brandon’s door, “Jesús says that we should tell Moms on Saturday afternoon ‘cause it’s after their nap and their always really happy after that.”

Stef poked Lena in the ribcage, and Lena suppressed a giggle. Mariana listened to something, then turned back to Jesús’s door, “Brandon says that’s a good idea. He says I should tell them ‘cause I’m the cutest.”

Brandon apparently caught that, “I did not Mariana!” he said loudly through his door, “I said you were better at looking innocent.”

“Ahem,” Stef cleared her throat expressively.

Mariana scrambled up from the floor, straightening her clothing nervously, “Hi Moms,” she said in a loud, nervous voice. “Brandon and Jesús stayed in their rooms, just like you said Mama.”

Two thumps from the opposing bedrooms showed the boys had caught those words. Lena raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “The boys are supposed to be in their rooms thinking,” she said.

“Well, you said they had to stay in their rooms but you didn’t say I couldn’t talk to them,” Mariana said with a timid smile.

“Young lady, do we need to have a talk about following implicit and explicit directions?” Stef said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Nuh-uh,” Mariana shook her head, black hair flying in every direction. “I’m sorry Mama,” she addressed Lena penitently. “I just had to tell the boys something.”

“Jesús…Brandon?” said Lena. The doors opened. Brandon shuffled out and Jesús peeked around his door. “Yeah?” asked Jesús.

“Come out please, we need to talk,” Lena said gesturing to them and turning so they could go talk in the living room.

Brandon and Jesús stood on either side of Mariana, and she reached out to grab their hands as she took a deep breath. She was brave, she could be brave. “Jesús and me want our last name to be Foster now. We don’t want to have to wait for all the papers and stuff,” she blurted. Her moms turned back to face them. Mariana bit her lip but felt her brothers squeeze her hands reassuringly. “And we don’t like Gutierrez, it’s yucky.”

“Mariana, Gutierrez it a beautiful name. It’s really old, from the medieval times from a man named Gutierre, and probably had something to do with warriors,” Lena said. She didn’t want that for her children, she didn’t want them to ignore their heritage, or to think less of it.

“We’ve waited and been patient,” said Jesús, then decided to go for it, “And…and…even if you don’t think it’s a good idea, we’re gonna do it anyway,” he said.

“It’s not that we wouldn’t like it,” said Lena, “we can’t wait until you both are adopted. We were just..” she stopped and looked at Stef, asking her if they could really make this promise with a clear conscience.

“Go ahead,” said Stef, looking at the twins with a serious, resolute expression. “You go ahead and change your names. Mama and I will let your teachers and everyone else know.”

“Really?” asked Jesús, bouncing a little on the balls of his feel, a delighted grin on is face. Mariana’s sweet smile and Brandon’s enthusiastic one echoed his excitement.

“Yes,” said Stef. “You’re ours. Let’s make sure everyone knows.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

It was about two months later when they finally learned the adoption was going through, one month after that, the twins were formally adopted. Jesús leaned wildly over the judge’s arm, peering intently at the embossed seal and his signature. “Those are the papers right, the official really real papers?” he breathed.

“Indeed, they are young man,” the judge said, signing his name with theatrical flourish.

“We read a story in class,” Jesús told the judge seriously, “about a girl who tried to make a thousand paper cranes to make a wish come true, and you know what?”

“What?”

“Me and my sister and my brother wrote our names over a thousand times and now my wish came true.”

 

 


	26. First Dances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew the Moms were going to get all playful on me?

 

Mariana was the first one to bring it up at the end dinner. Unfortunately, Lena was in the middle of a flurry of sneezing, the beginning of a cold that would eventually take her down, so the message was somewhat lost. “Excuse me?” asked Lena.

“I wanted to know if I could go to the school dance on Friday.”

Lena and Stef exchanged a glance, “well of course sweetheart,” Stef finally said. “Are you-who are you going with?” she corrected herself.

“Lexi and I are going to go, you know, just to hang out and stuff,” Mariana’s voice trailed off and she dragged her fork through her sweet potatoes.

“I think that’s great,” said Lena.

“Yeah, some of my best times at dances were with girlfriends,” said Stef.

“Well, yeah, but you’re gay,” said Mariana, looking up from her dinner.

Stef laughed, “I wasn’t really aware of that at the time. I just wanted to go have fun with my friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. A whole group of us would go. We’d dance with each other, eat stuff, make fun of the boys. We had a great time,” Stef smiled at the memory.

“I didn’t know they had dances back in the olden days,” smirked Jesús.

“Watch it,” Stef warned, throwing a napkin at his face.

“How about you Mama?” asked Mariana.

Lena’s hands twisted a little in her lap, “I was a little more shy than your mom. I went to some dances, usually with my closest friends, Jason and Ally.”

“But you had fun?” asked Brandon, reaching for his glass to take a drink of water.

Lena shrugged, “it wasn’t bad.”

“You put a lot of work into the Harvest Dance, Mama,” said Jesús, “the auditorium looks really cool. I like all the decorations. They were shiny.”

“Thank you, baby. The parents and the ASB committee helped a lot.”

“What about you boys?” asked Stef, looking at their sons, “are you going to go to the dance?”

“Maybe,” said Jesús.

Brandon just shrugged.

“You guys said you’d think about it,” said Mariana instantly putting down her fork and looking at them accusingly.

“We did think about it,” said Brandon rolling his eyes in commiseration with Jesús.

“You better think that you’re going then,” said Mariana.

Jesús groaned, “c’mon Mariana.”

Mariana folded her arms and stared at them stubbornly.

“Love, they don’t have to go if they don’t want to,” Stef said mildly, nudging her daughter to pick up her fork and resume eating.

“Yes they do,” said Mariana. “Everyone in the middle school is going and I want them to go too.”

“Mariana-“ Lena began.

Jesús sighed explosively, crumpling under his twin’s demands, as usual. “Fine, we’ll go, right Brandon?”

“Whatever,” groaned Brandon. “But I’m leaving early if it’s lame.”

“Hey, no dance that I organized is going to be lame,” Lena said, throwing a joking frown in his direction.

He grinned, “only if the kids are lame,” he corrected.

“Do you guys know what you are going to wear?” asked Lena, passing the pitcher of water to Brandon and nodding in Jesús’s direction.

“Clothes?” volunteered Jesús after he had swallowed a mouthful of chicken.

“Can I get new ones?” Mariana asked, as if the idea had just occurred to her.

“No,” said Stef firmly. The school had at least three dances a year for the middle schoolers and four for the high schoolers. She didn’t want to start a trend with Mariana about getting a new outfit every time there was a dance.

“Mommy,” begged Mariana immediately, bringing out the big guns and the puppy eyes.

“No,” said Stef again, shaking her head warningly at Lena, then Mariana, “you have enough outfits. Grams just bought you a new one not that long ago. You can wear that.”

Mariana leaned back in her chair and pouted a little.

“I think we may need to have a dance party tonight,” said Lena, changing the subject before her daughter got too deep into her sulking.

“A dance party?” asked Jesús, injecting his tone with a healthy degree of skepticism.

“No way,” said Brandon.

“Well, do any of you know how to dance?” asked Lena pleasantly. A silence bomb descended on the room and the kids looked at one another.

“I don’t,” said Jesús. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a dance, of course it’s bad,” said Brandon, looking worried. He had missed the dances as a seventh grader due to concerts, time with his dad, and general disinterest.

“It’s not bad because we’ll teach you,” said Lena, beginning to stack her plate to take it to the sink.

“But how do you know the kind of dances that the kids will know?” asked Jesús.

“Well, Mama and I have been known to cut a rug or two,” said Stef, beginning to stack her own plates.

 _Cut a rug_? the kids looked even more panicked. Their moms didn’t even know the right words. This was going to be a disaster! “Maybe we should look online,” said Mariana politely.

“Mariana,” said Lena firmly, turning around from her position at the sink, “I have been supervising at least half of the dances for almost ten years. I’ve seen the kids dance. It’ll be fine.”

“Or, y’know, if it’s not, we’ll certainly get noticed,” said Brandon matter-of-factly.

Mariana scowled at him. The only one of the kids that would be more self-conscious than her if they were embarrassed would be Brandon. He was just teasing her.

“Fine,” she said pertly, tossing her hair and following her twin to the sink. “We’ll see how it goes.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Her sons were…not particularly graceful, Stef decided. That wasn’t a surprise when considering Brandon, all his talent went straight to the piano, but Jesús was definitely an athlete and he still had two left feet. She had a feeling it was mainly due to lack of attention. He was spending more time watching the other two learn to dance than doing it himself. “Jesús,” she snapped. “Pay attention.”

“Sorry.”

“Alright, let’s try this again. Hands at the waist. Never below the waist, got it?” she sent a warning glare at her other son.

“Got it,” they chorused.

“Now the easiest kind of dance is where you just kind of sway together. There’s nothing to it. Just kinda sway.”

“That’s slow-dancing, right Mom?” asked Brandon.

“Yes.”

“That’s the kind of dancing where people are k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” sang Jesús.

“Not at my dances,” snorted Lena, gliding by them with  Mariana.

Jesús looped his hands together around his mom’s waist and tried to see how far he could lean back before toppling over.

“Jesús,” Stef sighed.

“Sorry.”

“So the next one I’m going to show you requires a few steps. Traditionally, the guy leads, so you need to at least figure out these steps, especially since she’s going to be doing the hard part of dancing backwards. The least you can do is not step on her feet.”

“Okay,” Jesús looked earnestly at his own shoes. Stef lead him through the steps, wincing a little when he stepped on her foot. “Sorry, Mom,” he said, glancing up at her quickly and then back down at his feet. He began humming lightly with the music.

Stef grinned and kissed his head, smiling at Lena. She grinned back as Mariana carefully trotted around the carpet.

“I love dancing!” said Mariana excitedly. “Can I take dance lessons?”

“Sure,” Lena said, spinning her with one hand, “there’s all types of dance; modern, ballet, tap.”

Brandon laughed, “take tap,” he advised, “that won’t ever be not funny.”

On her next pass, Mariana accidentally on purpose clipped his ankle. “You should take dance too,” she advised. “Then you won’t look like such a dork when you dance.”

“All right you two,” warned Stef as she nodded encouragingly to Jesús as he took the correct steps, “that’s enough of that.”

“Maybe I _should_ take dance classes,” said Brandon doubtfully as Jesús stumbled again after looking up to grin proudly at his mom.

“You’ll be fine,” Lena assured him. “Mariana, take a break for a moment and let me practice with your brother.”

Mariana pushed her lower lip out, “I want to keep dancing.”

“Well, your brother needs more practice.”

“You said it, I didn’t,” she said, flashing Brandon a grin.

He stuck out his tongue and took his place in front of Lena. His sense of rhythm was good, but it did not translate into dance steps. He sighed.

“What did you like best about your dances?” asked Mariana as she bounced on the couch cushions, watching her mothers and brothers.

“The food,” joked Stef then, “there you go, Jesús, that’s how you do it!” she squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s try that again.”

“It was kind of exciting…parts of it anyway,” said Lena, leading Brandon through the pattern of steps again.

“Was it romantic?” asked Mariana.

The moms exchanged almost pained looks, _so soon_? “No,” said Stef.

“Not really,” said Lena.

“Oh,” said Mariana disappointedly.

Her innate honesty provoked Lena into further disclosure, “there was a girl I really liked at my eighth grade dance. I remember thinking how pretty she looked in her dress.” Her children looked at her curiously and she felt herself blush, “it might have been more romantic if I’d said something to her about it about it.” She frowned, “or not.” There were several possible negative outcomes that could have come from that disclosure. Brandon squeezed her hands and the twins gave her empathetic looks. She chuckled and shrugged off the negative thoughts, “I’m not sure dances are the most romantic things anyway. I like spending time romantic time alone with my partner.”

“What a coincidence, so do I,” said Stef, letting go of Jesús and nudging her other son over so she could dance with her partner.

“Mushy stuff,” said Jesús to his siblings. They nodded and grinned.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“Jesús…Brandon, get down here please, I want to talk to you before I go,” Lena said, her hoarse voice making it difficult to project very far.

Luckily Stef, in Mariana’s room, was listening carefully for her wife. “Brandon, Jesús, Mama wants you downstairs. Now!” she hollered.

“Ow, Mom, you hurt my eardrums,” complained Mariana, sliding her dress over her head.

“Sorry baby,” Stef kissed her head. “Turn around, let me get the those buttons for you. I don’t know why Grams picked a dress with over a hundred buttons. That’s like the dresses in the old days when ladies had maids to help them dress.”

“I have you,” said Mariana, spinning around so the bottom of her dress flared.

“Well, aren’t we Miss Sassy tonight,” said Stef as she began the laborious buttoning process. Mariana gave another little wriggle and Stef sighed, “sweetheart, it would make this easier if you would hold still.”

“Sorry.” Mariana stopped moving. “I’m just really excited.”

“I know you are baby. Mama and I are so happy for you.” Stef moved her daughter’s long, dark hair away from the buttons so it didn’t pull.

“Even if I don’t get asked to dance a lot, I’m going to have fun,” said Mariana, “because Lexi is going to be there and we’ll be just like you and your friends and we’ll dance together. We’ve already talked about it.”

“That’s a great idea sweetheart. And you know that you don’t have to wait to be asked to dance, right? You can ask a boy too.”

Mariana spun back to face her, nose wrinkling a little, “I don’t think that’s how it’s done. Sonia said that the boys ask the girls.”

“And they do, a lot of the time,” said Stef as she straightened imaginary wrinkles in her daughter’s dress. “But some boys are just as shy and nervous as you get sometimes, and they might be worried about asking you. If you see a boy that’s watching you but looking a little scared, maybe _you_ could ask him.”

“Maybe,” said Mariana nodding thoughtfully. “Is that what you did, Mom?”

“I liked dancing,” Stef admitted, “and I danced with a lot of guys. Some of them were kind of shy, but I found out that when I made them laugh, they weren’t as shy anymore.”

“You _are_ pretty funny Mom,” agreed Mariana. “I don’t know if I can be funny, like you. I’m not as good at it as you are.”

“You don’t have to make people laugh to make them comfortable,” said Stef, cupping her daughter’s cheek briefly, “you do other things to make people safe. Just be good at being you, that’s what counts.”

“Yeah?” Mariana’s voice held a sliver of doubt.

“Yeah,” said Stef. She’d been outgoing as a teenager, but she had also been self-conscious. Being confused about her sexuality had added a layer of unease that had never allowed her to feel completely free, at least not until she met Lena. She never wanted her children to feel like they couldn’t be who they were.

“Which jewelry should I wear Mommy? I think silver is going to go best with this dress,” said Mariana, tearing her from old thoughts and replacing them with new ones. “I want to wear the necklace you and Mama gave me and the bracelet that Grandma gave me. They look pretty together.”

“I think that would be lovely,” said Stef, feeling a pang. Mariana wasn’t a different girl from the one who’d cuddled up with her in bed on Sunday morning, but suddenly she seemed much older. Things like prom and graduation lurked around the corner, waiting to whisk her children away. She smiled at her daughter, focusing on the moment. _Breathe_. “You look absolutely beautiful love. What should we do with your hair?”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“I know this is your first dance, and I really want it to be good for all of you,” Lena paused to cough into her shoulder. “Mariana is a little nervous about not having people to dance with tonight. Do you think you  could help her with that?”

The boys looked at her, “you mean ask her to dance? I think the other kids would make fun of us…and her,” said Jesús. The boys were sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking at her with serious faces.

“No, I don’t mean that. Maybe you could ask some of your friends if they would dance with your sister,” Lena rubbed her head tiredly. She was beginning to get a headache.

Brandon perked up at this suggestion, “I could ask Aiden, he wouldn’t mind. He thinks Mariana is funny.”

“I could ask Sam and Pete,” said Jesús. “They’re nice to her, even when she’s annoying us and stuff.”

“Good, thank you. That will mean a lot to her.” Lena took a breath. “Now listen, I want the two of you to be gentlemen tonight. Remember that you are at a dance in front of everyone. You should be aware of your surroundings and use your best manners. Don’t wipe your noses on your sleeves or anything like that.”

Brandon looked offended, “Mama, we’re not gross.”

“I know your not,” explained Lena patiently, “you just need to be prepared for eventualities. For example, if you do need a tissue, what are you doing to do?”

“Get a Kleenex,” said Jesús barely refraining from rolling his eyes.

“And where do you imagine those will be, at a dance, in the auditorium?”

The boys exchanged glances. “I’m gonna go get some Kleenex,” said Jesús, heading for the bathroom.

“Get some for me too!” yelled Brandon.

“Please,” reminded Lena.

“Please!”

“Okay, let’s talk about specific dance etiquette,” said Lena when Jesús returned. “Remember when you ask a girl to dance you say please and you look her in her eyes. If you have to sneeze or cough, do it into your arm but also step away. You don’t want to be doing that in your dance partner’s space.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Its considered polite to hold hands to get to the dance floor. Then when you’re done dancing, you smile, look at her eyes again, and say thank you.”

“Okay,” said Jesús.

“How many girls should we ask to dance?” asked Brandon.

“You don’t have to ask anybody to dance if you don’t want too,” said Lena. “But there’s something I’d really like you to think about. There’s probably going to be a lot of girls there who feel like your sister, and I think you’ll be able to tell who they are. They might be the girls who stay seated at the tables, or the ones standing near a wall. They’ll be watching things that are going on, or looking down, too nervous to look up. It would make me very proud and happy if you would ask one of those girls to dance.”

Both her sons looked thoughtful, Brandon nodding and Jesús’s bright eyes fixed solemnly on her face.

“It’s not something you have to do. It’s okay if you don’t want too. I just know my boys have good hearts and would notice them. And I want you to know it’s okay if you ask them to dance, and that it would probably make it a lovely night for those girls.”

“Mama?” said Mariana from the top of the stairs, “could you do my hair please?”

“Apparently my hairstyles aren’t fancy enough for this shindig,” Stef’s voice floated down as well.

“Mrs. Rivera will be here in a minute,” Lena said to her sons, “why don’t you guys play a game while you wait.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Many, many pictures were snapped as the four children posed on the stairs, in front of the fireplace, then on the front steps. Only when they started sighing and groaning impatiently did their mothers stop.

After some vigorous waving, Lena and Stef watched the car disappear. Lena sighed a slightly teary sigh and leaned on Stef, “I should have gone.”

“You’re sick,” Stef reminded her.

“It’s just a cold.” Sensitive Lena had turned into crabby Lena. “I want to see our babies dance.”

“Well, you’ll just have to spend time with little old me,” said Stef, wrapping her in a hug and leading her to the front door.

“Didn’t Mariana look beautiful?” sighed Lena as they walked through the door. “She looked so grown-up.”

“That’s what I was thinking as I helped her get ready. I was trying to just focus on the moment, but they seem to be going too quickly,” said Stef.

“It’s their first dance,” said Lena quietly.  Stef kissed the side of her forehead. They sat on the couch, watching as the sunlight through the windows faded into twilight. When Stef finally got up to turn on the lights, Lena shook her head. “Get some candles out, okay? I don’t want all that bright light right now.”

While she was up, Stef turned on the stereo to a low volume, letting the music blend into the background. “Mariana was so cute the other day. All those questions about romance.”

“She’s so innocent in that way. I want to wrap her up and protect her until we find her a first boyfriend whose going to be the sweetest kid in the world. I can’t bear to think of her getting her heart broken,” said Lena.

“Yeah, first loves can be tough,” said Stef, letting Lena cuddle close to her on the couch.

“You were pretty quiet on the subject of romance the other day,” said Lena.

Stef shrugged, “You know, its funny to me. I was a pretty popular kid, never had any trouble making friends. And I did have fun at the dances, but I guess I hadn’t realized how hard it was for me too. I did…I did want to dance with some of those girls and not the way I danced with my friends. I remember that…the wanting, even when I knew it would end badly.”

“I know that feeling,” said Lena, “I think I accepted I was gay by the time I was Mariana’s age, maybe a little earlier, but even accepting it. I knew if I acted on it, there would be trouble. That girl I was telling everyone about…I really liked her. I thought she was so pretty. All I wanted to do was to be able to hold her hand and I knew I couldn’t even do that. Not really. Not the way I wanted.”

Stef let her head drop back onto the couch cushion, “it’s too bad we didn’t know each other then. I think I would have loved getting to know thirteen-year-old you.”

“You would not,” said Lean, laughing a little and poking her, “you would have thought I was boring, I was so shy.”

“I would have fallen it love with you,” said Stef, “at any age, at any time.”

She leaned forward and they kissed tenderly before Lena pulled back. “I’m sick,” she reminded her lover.

“I share a bed with you,” Stef retorted, going in for another kiss. They shared this delightful activity for some time until suddenly, Stef laughed.

“What?”

“I was just thinking, what it would have been like if we had met when we were teenagers.”

“Yeah,” a smile pulled at the corner of Lena’s mouth.

Suddenly Stef stood up and walked over to the other end of the room, facing the wall for a minute, smoothing back her hair with her hands.

“What are you doing?” asked Lena

Stef turned and she sauntered over to the couch, her strides longer than normal and with the faintest swagger. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

Stef’s voice got almost imperceptibly higher, “So I noticed you were over here by yourself,” she said, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet.

Lena straightened a little and pulled the afghan off of her. Even if she hadn’t seen pictures of thirteen-year-old Stef, she would have recognized the body language. “Yeah?” she said curiously.

Stef ducked her head, “so, um, do you want to like, dance with me or something?”

The tone of teenage eagerness made Lena grin, but it was the hint of vulnerability, that same vulnerability she had seen in her children’s faces that night, that made her feel incredibly tender. “Sure,” she said with a nod, casually offering her hand. Stef pulled her to her feet and they moved together automatically.

Through sheer luck or some sort of dimensional shift in the space-time continuum, Eternal Flame came on.

“I like this song,” said Lena, beginning to perform the familiar steps she had been teaching her children, remembering how this felt as a teenager.

“Me too,” said Stef quickly. “I don’t think its at all provincial or melodramatic.”

Lena chuckled.

They danced for awhile in silence, the initial song followed by Like a Prayer. Stef could feel Lena’s a-little-above-normal skin temperature under her hands. “I think you’re really, really pretty,” volunteered Stef, intentionally widening her eyes and batting them.

Really, really. Lena smiled.

“Thanks Stef. I really like you.”

A smile pulled at Stef’s mouth, “do you like me, or do you _like_ like me?” she asked seriously.

She looked into Stef’s familiar hazel eyes, “I like like you.” Stef gave her the same smile that melted her heart ever since the first time she’d flashed it at her.

They danced some more, not quite at the kissing stage, but treading around it with an intensity that was making Lena want to drag her lover the bedroom.

“Do you want to, like, come over to my house and listen to some records some time?” Stef asked. “I have, like, a huge collection and I have my own record player in my room.”

Lena let her whole body quietly melt into Stef’s. “I like Bananarama,” she volunteered shyly.

Stef broke character, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, holding Lena lightly by the elbows so she could push her back a little.

Lena giggled, a giggle as light as any teenager’s.

The dancing became more like swaying in place and the women let their hands travel over one another’s bodies and their kissing became intense until suddenly, Lena was overcome with a coughing fit. They stopped immediately. “You okay, love?” Stef asked.

“Yeah,” Lena gasped after a moment. “Just took my breath.”

“That’s my job,” Stef said, laying her palm against Lena’s cheek.

“That’s your job,” Lena agreed, leaning into the touch. She shuddered from both the touch and her increasing fever.

“Time for bed sweetheart,” Stef said gently, drawing their heads together so their foreheads touched.

“Don’t wanna,” said Lena tiredly, sounding childlike without even trying.

Stef pulled her lover up the stairs.

“Taking me to bed seems like a big step,” teased Lena, resting against the wall in the hallway.

Stef entwined her fingers in Lena’s belt loops and pulled her into the bedroom undressing them both quickly and recladding them in their loosest, most comfortable pajamas. Lena groaned a little in protest but submitted to these ministrations.

They lay in bed, sharing a pillow, Stef reaching out to stroke Lena’s hair from her face. “Thanks for being my dance partner tonight,” she said.

Lena smiled, “dances were always supposed to be this amazing, _romantic_ thing, something girls would talk about days before and days after, but they weren’t like that for me. They were missing something.”

Stef smiled sadly, “mine too. I always felt like more of an outsider after them and I never really knew why. It made me sad and mad at myself.”

“Always too hard on yourself,” whispered Lena, patting her cheek. “S’not you. Never you. Just the world.”

“Who knew I just needed you?” whispered Stef as Lena’s eyes began fluttering shut.

“Knew I needed you. First time. Saw you. Just knew.”

Stef lips pressed hers, “love you.”

“Love you.”


	27. Welcome to the Family (maybe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a second part to this one.

Lena was smiling at her, really smiling at her. In general, a smiling Lena meant all good things; happiness, desire, serenity, and tenderness, but today Stef sensed something else. She sensed danger. Pretending she didn’t see that something was up, she smiled back, “hey.”

“Hi,” Lena said, continuing to smile at her.

“What’s wrong?” Stef said, settling her overnight bag on the floor next to the couch.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong?” Lena adjusted the plates on the table and the orchid centerpiece with precise movements.

“I mean we haven’t seen each other since Tuesday and you look tense. What’s wrong?”

Lena sighed, plans destroyed. So much for dinner _before_ discussion. “My parents are going to be flying here in two weeks.”

Stef felt a rumble of discomfort at these words.

“They know how serious we are, they know we’re even considering buying a house together. They want to meet you,” Lena stopped fiddling with the napkins long enough to spare a glance at her partner.

Stef was still standing near the couch smiling rather mechanically, “that’s great,” she said.

“Oh, that’s convincing.”

“No, seriously. I really want to meet them,” and she did. She’d even talked to Dana briefly one afternoon. “I guess, I just didn’t expect to…this early…or maybe this…” Stef began, slightly flustered.

“Is it Mike?” asked Lena knowingly, walking over to the couch and grabbing Stef’s hand to lead her there. They sat down, legs pressed together.

Stef sighed, running a hand over her face, “he’s just been so damn inconsistent lately,” she said. “He says he’ll spend time with Brandon, then he doesn’t. He says he’ll call, and he won’t, or he’ll call hours after he said he would. You know how Brandon’s been lately, he’s acting out and I just don’t know what to do with him.  I mean, he shouldn’t be throwing tantrums but I know he’s just really upset about his dad.”

“I know,” said Lena, making a mental not to come back to that subject later, “I can tell my parents to give it some more time.”

“No, I- I don’t want you to do that Lena. I mean, it’s not a great time for me but we don’t know if there’s ever going to be a great time. And we’re not just _talking_ about getting a place together, we’ve actually been going to open houses. We’ve had – dinner, with my dad-”

Making sure her face didn’t betray her thoughts, Lena gave an internal sigh. Her parents, she hoped, would at least be better than that particular dinner. Frank’s silence during the few short hours (or long hours to most of the participants) had a brittle edge. Lena could tell he was trying to make an effort, but then he’d look at her and Stef and his eyes would cloud over. She had seen anger but Stef had told her later that she could tell he was melancholy as well. Lena could believe that. He was still mourning the daughter he thought he knew. It didn’t make it easier, and Stef had cried that night in her arms. It was the first time she’d really broken down like that and though she initially tried to pull away, she had finally let Lena pull her into her arms as she soothed her. Stef’s frailty and strength had engendered an almost visceral response from Lena, making her love Stef even more. “Although I have yet to meet the redoubtable Sharon Elkins,” said Lena, teasing lightly with her tone.

“No, Mom…Mom’s going to be okay,” said Stef softly. “She doesn’t have as far to go.” Sharon had suspected her daughter might be gay, something Stef wished her mother had shared with her during her somewhat stormy adolescence. While it couldn’t be said that she was throwing a ticker-tape parade or joining PFLAG, her “okay then,” had soothed something deep within Stef, not something that was broken, but had the potential to be.

Lena smiled at her, “I can’t wait.”

“Oh, she’ll drive you crazy. She’ll drive _me_ crazy, but it won’t be like my…dad,” she said, hesitating between the last two words. She looked at Lena, her face caught in between her dark thoughts and her desperation to lighten the mood, “I can’t wait to see where you get your gorgeous looks from.”

Laughing, Lena shook her head, “charmer.”

“How long will they stay for?” Stef said, trying to focus on the details and not the unease that was traveling slowly through her body like molasses in January.

“Not more then a week, both of them will need  to get back to work and everything.”

“So, um, what were you thinking? How are we going to do this?”

“Well, first I think we should eat a little while we talk this over. I made those enchiladas that you like so much, and I don’t want them sitting too long, it will change the flavor,” said Lena, getting to her feet, her hand still hooked to her lover’s.

Stef grabbed her other hand, pulling her down long enough for a kiss, then stood. “That sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Let me just wash up a bit.”

While Stef disappeared to the bathroom, Lena got the rest of the food and lit some candles. She tried to quell the rising nervousness in her stomach. Her dad wouldn’t be a problem. Her entire childhood, her dad was never a problem. The only times her was remotely censorious of her behavior was if he felt she was being disrespectful to her mother. That would garner instant rebuke and inevitable tears on her part. Thankfully, he’d always been just as quick to defend her, albeit more gently and supportively, when he felt her mother was being to hard with her as well. Her dad would love Stef. He would be quiet, as he always would, but he’d laugh at Stef’s jokes and show real interest in whatever they discussed. Her mother though, her mother…

“This looks great, love,” Said Stef, startling her from her thoughts as she encircled her waist to give her a hug, “thank you so much for making dinner tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” said Lena, turning to give her lover a kiss.

They filled their plates and managed about ten minutes of general pleasantries, mostly talking about the amount of paperwork in civil service jobs and how much more eco-friendly it would be to, you know, not have it. Finally when she felt they had talked around it for long enough, Stef cleared her throat, “so, your parents,” she began.

“Yes, they’re visiting in two weeks,” said Lena, dabbing at her lips with her napkin.

“Obviously they’re going to want to spend a lot of time with you, maybe get out and see some of the area,” said Stef, cutting her meat in neat, symmetrical slices, “so we could probably find time for dinner at least one of those nights.”

“Well, they’re going to want to see you more than once, Stef,” said Lena. “They’ll want at least a couple of dinners, then to go out and do something probably…and they’ll want to meet Brandon of course.”

Stef’s chewing slowed, “ri-ight,” she said, then a beat, “really?”

“He’s your son,” Lena said, “of course they do, especially if we’re going to…live together and everything. It’s going to be all of us.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I just mean – well, five year olds aren’t actually great dinner conversationalists so-” _Stop_ she told herself. _You’re just rambling._ Luckily, and most unusually, her brain and mouth were in rare agreement so she stopped and looked at Lena nervously.

Lena drew her fork across the plate, her voice becoming quieter, slightly hurt. “Why wouldn’t you want Brandon to meet them? I mean, it’s my family. He’s your child and we-”

Oh this had the potential to go very, very badly in a very, short period of time. Stef put down her fork and reached for Lena’s hand, “it’s nothing like that love, truly. It’s me. It’s him. All of what’s going on right now with the Mike stuff. His behavior’s just unpredictable, and I don’t know how he’s going to react.”

“I understand that Stef, but he’s a child. My parents understand that too. They’re not going to…judge you because Brandon has a melt down,” Lena’s gripped her hand firmly and straightened involuntarily in her chair. _Well, they mostly wouldn’t judge her_ , Lena decided. They might have some parenting suggestions, but hopefully they’d know if their advice would gain good reception or not. She thought about her mother, _or not_.

Stef must have seen something in her eyes because she gave her a wry grin, “we’d probably have some interesting child rearing discussions,” she said.

“Oh yeah,” said Lena. Her mother would flatly disapprove of certain disciplinary tactics Stef employed. Disapprove and probably let her know about it. “But they would also understand, that you’re going through tough times.” And they would. She and her mom had their differences, but she had been a good mother and Dana had great respect and understanding of working mothers.

“I just, I don’t really want them to know about that stuff Lena,” said Stef quietly. It’s private and to be honest, I’m a little embarrassed about it.” She must have seen something in Lena’s face because she pulled her hand a little way from Lena’s, “they don’t, do they? Know about it?”

“Not really,” said Lena, feeling suddenly guilty. “I was just telling my dad how strong you are and how amazing you are taking care of Brandon and having this incredibly demanding job and…well, he might have read between the lines. He’s pretty intuitive.” She found herself unable to look Stef in the eyes. She felt like she had betrayed her confidence, but she hadn’t meant it that way. What if Stef was angry at her?

A light caress of her cheek caused her to peek up again, “so you were bragging about me, huh?” said Stef, trying for a smile. She was still uncomfortable but she didn’t want to make her lover feel like she shouldn’t talk to her parents. She also couldn’t help but feel a little happy about the obvious pride in Lena’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” said Lena, “I just-”

“It’s fine, love,” Stef interrupted. “I know what you meant.”

“So you’re okay going to dinner with them a couple of times and having them meet Brandon?” Lena opened her hand in invitation.

“Sure,” said Stef, forcing her tone to sound optimistic, as she entwined her fingers with Lena, “I think that would be great.”

Lena gave her a look, “you don’t have to lie to me Stef. Tell me what you’re actually feeling. That’s the only way we can really have the kinds of discussions we’ve talked about.”

“It is fine. Yes, I’m a little nervous, but I’m sure it will be fine. Should I,” she hesitated, “wear anything special? Are there things I shouldn’t talk about?”

“No,” Lena shook her head, “just be you. My parents are open-minded and they appreciate a good debate, especially if there’s passion and sound reasoning.”

“Perfect,” said Stef. She wasn’t sure sound reasoning was her best skill. Sarcastic quips, well-timed jokes? That was more her style. If anything, the dinner would prove interesting. “When do we meet?”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef was so determined to be early to the Addison restaurant, that she left a fair amount of paperwork piled on her desk. She’d get to it later, but on top of what she’d collect the next day, it would be a slog. She debated her clothing for the hundredth time. Finally, she decided on flowing pants that were almost like a dress, and a white shirt with faint embroidery around the collar and seams.

“You look nice, Mommy,” said Brandon cheerfully, watching her from the bed where he’d piled several stuffed animals and matchbox cars.

“Thank you, baby,” Stef replied, looking through her jewelry box for an appropriate necklace. “I want you to be a good boy tonight for Melissa.”

“I will,” said Brandon, carelessly sending a car careening to the floor. “When do _I_ get to see Lena?”

“You’ll see her Friday,” said Stef, finally finding the right one and straightening to put it on.

“I’ll see her mommy and daddy too?” Another car went crashing to the floor.

Stef turned to look at him, “uh-huh, won’t that be nice?”

Brandon shrugged, “I guess, if they’re nice like Lena. Can I sit next to her?”

“We’ll see.”

“But I want to.”

“We’ll see,” said Stef again, more firmly. “C’mere.”

He bounded to his feet and bounced to the end of the bed where she was standing. Stef leaned down until they were forehead to forehead. “It’s very important to me that you behave when we meet Lena’s parents, understand?”

He nodded, “’kay.”

“Alright, give me a kiss.” He complied, then hopped into her arms. She held him tightly for a moment, then kissed his head.

Just then, the doorbell rang. “Melissa!” screeched Brandon in her ear. He wiggled until she dropped him on the bed, then disappeared out the door. She could hear the chair scraping as he pulled it over to the peephole. She checked in the mirror one last time. She hoped she looked right. She hoped the evening would go well. She hoped-  Taking a deep breath, she heard the door click open. It was time.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena smiled involuntarily when she saw her lover in the entrance to the restaurant. Stef looked gorgeous, the blue pants and flecks of blue in the shirt a perfect combination with her golden hair. She walked as she always did, with casual, careless confidence. She tended to swagger a bit more in uniform, something about being surrounded by men all day, but Lena preferred this particular walk. It embodied all that she loved about Stef; bold, strong, and joyous in her femininity.

“So, that’s Stef,” said her mother, standing behind her.

Lena turned slightly, her smile bright, “yes.”

Dana Adams nodded, choosing to say nothing else. Stuart Adams put an arm around his daughter, “she looks lovely, sweetheart. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Thanks Daddy,” Lena said. She moved ahead of them slightly so she could greet her lover alone.  “Hey,” she said, brushing their lips together in a light kiss.

“Hey.”

Lena could feel energy thrumming through her partner, and she took a moment to stroke her back. “They can’t wait to meet you,” she confided. Stef smiled back.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Stef. Stef, these are my parents, Dana and Stuart.”

Stef held out her hand “Dana, Stuart, it’s so nice to meet you in person,” she said, first shaking Dana’s hand, then Stuart’s.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Stef,” said Dana cordially, “Lena talks of no one else.”

“She always had good taste,” said Stuart with a wink, gesturing at the table for everyone to sit.

“Well,” said Stef with a self-deprecating laugh,  “I-” She stalled for a moment

trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t put herself down, or dispute Lena’s tastes. To her horror, her mind was a complete blank. She looked at Lena for help.

“Thanks Dad,” said Lena, giving her lover’s hand a quick squeeze as they sat down. _Relax_.

“So how was your flight?” Stef asked, letting the waiter settle the napkin in her lap.

“As well as any flight can be these days,” said Dana with a sigh. “Hurry up, stand in lines, watch your personal belongings getting pawed through. At least when we’re travelling overseas we get the appropriate service. If I didn’t insist to Stuart that we fly first-class, I swear we’d never leave home at all.”

“That’s too bad,” Stef said, infusing sympathy in her voice. She’d never travelled first class. In fact, her trips on a plane were relatively limited as well.

“Well, it is to see our daughter,” said Dana, her voice gentling as she looked across at Lena, “it’s well worth any inconvenience.”

The look Lena gave her mom was sincere and sweet. Stef felt herself falling in love all over again.

They all managed to keep the conversation going without noticeable dips. Stef became more comfortable as the dinner went on and was even able to joke with Stuart on several occasions by the time the main entrées was served. She didn’t get to that level with Dana, mostly because in general, Dana seemed to take things more seriously and didn’t look like she’d appreciate certain displays of humor.

“How do you like being a police officer?” said Dana pleasantly as she poised her fork above her glazed halibut.

Stef carefully swallowed before she answered, “I like it a lot. I like being able to help people and solve cases.”

“Mm-hmm. Do you find it difficult being a woman on the police force?”

“I guess, I mean sometimes. At first some of the guys were a little rough but it’s gotten better. My captain is a good woman, and she doesn’t tolerate that kind of stuff.” She took another bite so she wouldn’t say anything else. Since she had come out, things had become a little more difficult. Some of the guys would mumble stuff about “dykes” under their breath as they passed her. She had a rash of “presents” from her brothers in blue ranging from how-to books to a fourteen inch dildo. The guys made it out to be like they were being funny, but it didn’t feel that way. While not overtly threatening, it had an edge to it that made Stef uncomfortable. She was determined not to let her captain know. She was sure if she just rode it out, behaved as she always did and show they guys that it was still her, that it would die down.

Lena, who knew more of this story, jumped in, “she’s very good at her job.”

Stef gave her a bittersweet smile, as much as she could share that with her.

“I’m sure,” Dana put her fork down on her plate. “It takes a lot to break down barriers, Stef, I can appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Thank you Dana.”

“Even though I think much of our police force has been infected by racism and corruption,” Dana finished neatly.

“Mom,” warned Lena.

“No, its okay,” Stef patted her girlfriend’s leg and made sure she spoke directly to Dana. “I understand. There’s a lot of things that are problematic in the police force, but I can assure you, most of the officers joined the force so they could do good.”

Dana pursed her lips but at her daughter’s raised eyebrow, nodded. Stuart cleared his throat, “I imagine that it’s hard sometimes, leaving all that you see at work. How do you handle it?”

For the second time in their conversation, Stef drew a blank, possibly because while the question was clearly well-intentioned and showed genuine care, it was a troublesome area in her and Lena’s relationship. Lena was fine with a broad overview of her day, but getting into the specifics made her worry too much. Being the spouse of a police officer, or in their case, the girlfriend of a police officer came with a minefield of responsibilities, anxiety, and unpredictability that Lena was just beginning to understand. It was a lot to ask of anyone, and Stef couldn’t help but feel guilty for introducing it to someone she loved so dearly. She cleared her throat, “I relax the best I can. Having Brandon helps. Nothing brings you back to earth more then having to give your kid a bath or feed him dinner.” She saw Dana nodding slightly in acknowledgement and continued, “and Lena of course. Being able to see Lena and be with her, she makes it so I can’t think of anything else.” Her throat closed suddenly as she said that. She hadn’t really told anyone besides Lena what she meant to her. The overwhelming love she had for Lena blinded her for a moment, and she cleared her throat again, reaching over to clasp Lena’s hand. Lena wore the look of shy surprise and tenderness that she had when Stef had first told her she loved her. It was a look she’d never, ever get tired of seeing. When she looked at Lena’s parents, Stuart had wrapped his arm around his wife, love and affection making his whole face warm (an bear striking resemblance to his daughter), but it was Dana’s face who made the smile slide slowly off Stef’s face. Her eyes were stricken and her face held true anguish. Stef felt a chill. _What had she done?_


	28. Welcome to the Family (Truly)

As Dana and Stuart had driven to the restaurant with Lena, Stef only had a moment with her lover. Lena walked her to the car, reaching for her hand and practically insisting that they stroll there. Stef paused by the driver side door, fiddling with the keys and leaning against the car. She pulled Lena to her until their hips touched, reveling in the feeling. “So how do you think tonight went?” she asked.

“Fine,” said Lena, smiling a little as she looked at her.

“Your mom is amazing,” said Stef honestly, “I can’t believe how much she’s done, how much she’s seen.”

Lena nodded, “there’s definitely no grass growing under her feet,” she agreed. A breeze blew some of her curls across her face.

“Your dad’s kind of quiet.”

“That’s just his way. That’s why he fits with Mom so well. He likes you a lot though, I can tell.”

“Yeah?” Stef held both of Lena’s hands, stroking the backs of them with her thumbs.

“Oh yeah. He definitely has a way of showing people he doesn’t like them, even if he is quiet.” The vibrations from Lena’s chuckle reverberated against Stef’s collarbone.

They continued their pressed-together-against-the-moonlight-mini-dance for a few more minutes. “How about your mom?” asked Stef.

“What about my mom?”

“Do you think she likes me?”

“Of course,” Lena said softly. If she willed it enough it would happen, right? Magical thinking wasn’t only the aegis of childhood. She pressed forward, kissing Stef tenderly. That was all the talking they did until “good-bye”.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Lena Adams didn’t consider herself a worrier. She was a planner. If there was a problem, or if there was going to be a problem, she prepared for it. That _didn’t_ make her a worrier. So, as the days passed with her mother, she began preparing herself. Her mother was _not saying_ something very hard and pretty soon, whatever it was, was going to be revealed. She was dreading it, because history dictated that when her mother didn’t say what was on her mind right away, she was building up to a conversation that included logic, rhetoric, and arguments that would take a lot of _her_ energy to formulate a response. She wanted to make sure her mother didn’t have any more ammunition. It was with this in mind that she invited Stef and Brandon to her place for dinner. It would be hard enough for Brandon to sit while a group of adults were having conversations three feet over his head, sitting in a fancy restaurant where children were not exactly welcome, would be too much.

Her mother walked into the kitchen, wine glass filled half-way as she observed her daughter’s dinner preparations, “wouldn’t you like some help, baby?”

“It’s okay Mom,” Lena spared a quick glance to her mother, “I’ve just got my rhythm going.”

“Mmm,” Dana said. She slipped into a chair, folding her legs elegantly and neatly as she adjusted her skirt, “what time will Stef and her son be here?” she asked.

“Brandon,” Lena said, slight irritation in her voice. Her mother had an almost perfect memory, she knew Brandon’s name. The fact that she was trying to distance herself from him both troubled and aggravated her.

“Lena,” her mother warned.

“Mom,” she said, matching her mother in tone and turning to look at her, eyebrow raised. Her mother could still push her around, she’d admit this to herself if no one else, but she wouldn’t let that go.

Dana sighed and waved a hand to let her know she’d won, for now.

“They’ll be here at 5:30. Stef’s told her captain she needed to get off a bit early. Hopefully there won’t be an emergency.” Lena went back to stirring the sauce, releasing herself from her mother’s penetrating stare.

“Does that happen often?”

Dana’s voice was completely neutral, but Lena didn’t relax, “sometimes,” she murmured. A lot, really. Things were always coming up and Lena had become accustomed to having back-up plans. She’d also ended up taking care of Brandon frequently. The afterschool program went until 6:00, but Stef’s schedule often varied wildly. Frank used to take care of Brandon quite a bit, but he’d been avoiding them lately, leaving Stef in an untenable position. Being a single mother was hard, but being a police officer single mother wreaked havoc in any kind of scheduled activity.

“Mmmm.”

Lena sighed.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef stood outside the familiar door, fingers tapping impatiently on her thighs. She turned and crouched in front of her son. “Okay love, remember that I want you to be on your best behavior tonight, understand?”

“I _know_ Mommy,” Brandon didn’t roll his eyes but his voice managed to convey an almost adolescent level of irritation.

“Hey,” said Stef sharply, placing a single finger under his chin to draw his attention to her, “I mean it. This is very important to me and Lena.”

“I kno-ow,” Brandon’s voice had changed to a whine at his mother’s stern tone.

Stef took a deep breath, forcefully willing patience. The day had been a difficult one, stressful, fast-paced, and included a call to a scene that included a battered child which were always terrible, only superseded by a child’s death, a belligerent father, and a mother who looked like she was a million miles away. She knew she was stressed, and she knew her son was responding to it but dear G-d couldn’t he just be his sweet self tonight?

Brandon noticed her switch in moods from frustrated to deadly calm and he went still. That was a bad sign. “Sorry Mommy,” he whispered.

Stef rubbed her forehead, “sorry for what?”

“Sorry for whining and being rude, and taking too long to put my toys away when we were trying to go. Sorry for-”

“Okay, okay,” Stef picked him up, relishing the way his arms locked trustingly around her neck. “Enough with the sorries. How about we start over, yes?”

Brandon nodded.

Stef cleared her throat, trying to organize her thoughts. She wanted him to understand why this was critical to future familial interactions. “Brandon, I’m a little worried about tonight,” she said seriously. “I want Lena’s mom and dad to like us, because we like _her_ so much. If we don’t get along, that would make Lena sad.”

“Like Grandpa makes you sad?” Brandon asked as his little fingers played with the edges of her hair.

Stef breathed in an uneven exhale. She had pushed her feelings about her father’s rejection away from her, telling herself that he’d get over it, that it didn’t really matter, but it wasn’t true. Her six-year-old son had seen the rupture in her relationship with her father, and put it in the most basic terms. She would not fracture her family any further, not the family she was making with Lena. “Yes,” she said simply.

Brandon nodded, “I’m sorry Grandpa makes you sad. I’ll be very good tonight ‘cause I love you and I love Lena and I want to be nice with her mommy and daddy too.”

“That’s my good boy.” She swung him down to the ground, settling a gentle hand on his shoulder and knocked on the door briskly.

She was slightly surprised when Dana opened the door. “Hello there! Lena is in the middle of trying to do a multi-course dinner all by herself, refusing any sort of help. She’s so strong-willed, I don’t know where she gets that from. It’s good to see you again Stef.” Her little speech complete, she leaned over to give Stef a quick hug.

“It’s good to see you again to Dana.” Privately Stef wondered if there was anytime Dana Adams didn’t look completely elegant and put-together. Doubtful.

“And this must be Brandon,” Dana said warmly, clasping his smaller hand in both of hers.”

“Yes ma’am,” Brandon’s voice squeaked a little.

“Oh, no, that won’t do. You can call me Mrs. Adams, or better yet, Dana.”

Brandon looked at his mother for permission and at her nod, turned back to Dana. “It’s very nice to meet you Dana,” he said.

“Thank you Brandon, what lovely manners you have.”

Stuart, who had been hovering nearby came closer upon his wife’s motion in his direction, “this is my husband and Lena’s father, Stuart.”

“Nice to meet you Stuart,” Brandon said just as quietly, sticking out his little hand again.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Stuart kindly.

Brandon looked at his mom, a little unsure about the correct response. She nodded at him, “thank you.”

“Nice to see you again Stef,” said Stuart, turning to her, humor dancing in his eyes.

“Where’s Lena?” asked Brandon, standing on his tiptoes trying to peer around the adults as if that would help. He had seen her at school but not in the after hours which had become his norm. He missed her.

“She’s in the kitchen,” Dana told him.

Without waiting for permission, Brandon took off for the kitchen. “B,” Stef began, then sighed.

“Lena!” Brandon said running up to her full tilt. Stef watched them, unconscious affection slipping over her face. Brandon had developed a particular way of hugging Lena. With his parents, he had gotten into the habit of running to them at ramming speed, only to be scooped up and thrown in the air. He had tried that once with Lena and had nearly knocked her over. Stef watched as he stretched his arms open as if her were about to take flight, then wrapped them around her waist tightly, burying his face in her stomach. When she had hugged him back, he lifted his arms again, expectantly for Lena to pick him up. As she held him, Lena bent her forehead to his and Stef smiled, filled with that same wrenching love she always felt when she saw them like that.

Dana looked at her daughter, then Stef, multiple emotions flitting across her face. Stuart was too busy looking at the two to notice. When Stef looked over at her, she smiled and patted her arm, “he seems like a very sweet boy.”

“I’m fond of him,” said Stef mildly, looking at her searchingly. There was something there, something that needed to be said, but Dana looked away. Stef let out an imperceptible sigh, a missed moment.

“Mommy, Lena says I can help her with dinner!” Brandon hollered as Lena lowered him to the floor.

“Oh really?” said Dana drily, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at her daughter.

Brandon gave her a beatific smile, “it’s dessert. I’m really good at desserts.”

“I know you’re good at _eating_ desserts,” said Stef, smirking at him and poking him in his stomach.

“I’m not the one who ate ice cream ‘till she puked,” Brandon retorted gleefully, holding up his arms to Lena could wrap an apron around him.

“Traitor,” Stef mumbled. She turned awkwardly to Dana and Stuart. “I was seven, and telling him stories about my childhood is my mother’s idea of revenge. It’s surprisingly effective.”

Stuart patted her on the back, “just remember you can do the same to him,” he laughed as he went into the kitchen to hang out at the counter and chat with his daughter and mini-sous chef.

“Take pictures,” advised Dana, following her husband to the kitchen, “lots of pictures.”

Laughing unexpectedly, Stef trotted after them. Maybe this night would be fun after all.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Dinner managed to be peaceful and in nearly all respects, enjoyable. Lena had carefully chosen a menu that appealed to everyone and both Dana and Stuart were very deliberate about including everyone in the conversation. There were a few times conversation stalled uncomfortable, but it wasn’t hard to get it going again. Stef was delighted to watch Lena’s eyes sparkle as she debated with her mother, or tilted her head appealingly as she listened to her dad, or cover her smile when listening to one of Brandon’s explanations.

When dinner was over, Stuart suggested a game and everyone eventually agreed Pictionary would be a good choice. However it was clear right away, even to the kindergartner that the teams for Pictionary were going to be lopsided. Brandon insisted on being on Lena’s team which including Stef, would have worked fine. Unfortunately, much to Stef’s chagrin, she was called by her current partner when he couldn’t find the paperwork she’d started that day. She excused herself and went to the back porch to convince Paul that yes, she had done it and yes, it was indeed in her drawer and wasn’t he a cop who should be able to figure this out? She was irritated with him up until she remembered that she had _actually_ stored the files in his desk, and after a minute, sheepishly informed him of the fact.  “Someone’s mind isn’t in the game,” laughed Paul, resorting to a school-yard, sing-song tone.

“Shut up,” Stef told him, still slightly flustered by her mistake. “You didn’t notice the extra files yourself?”

He went quiet for a moment. “So how are the in-laws?”

Stef snorted, “nice save, Paul. Good _bye_.”

When she re-entered Lena’s living room, she found that, unsurprisingly, Lena and Brandon were losing…by a lot. It had only been ten minutes, but Stef knew from experience that Lena would be hampered by Brandon’s instantaneous declarations as soon as she put pen to paper. She laughed as she went over to the couch, lifting her son onto her lap, “I see you’re a big help to Lena, bud.”

“We’re _losing_ Mommy,” Brandon said, as if he couldn’t believe his mother had made such a ridiculous comment.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t change that,” said Stef, smiling at her son, her eyes alight with love and mischief as she looked at her girlfriend.

Lena squeezed her hand and patted Brandon’s leg, “let’s.”

Although they tried, the intrepid threesome were thwarted in their quest for Pictionary victory. Dana and Stuart were killer at Pictionary. It took them about three seconds to figure out what the other was drawing. Stef kind of wanted to blame their lack of success on her son’s “help”, but then she and Lena had the tendency to giggle through their drawing and guessing. At times, Stef had to clutch at her sides. She was used to making people laugh, she was pretty good at it, but nobody besides her son made her laugh as hard as Lena, made her feel as good, as happy. She could tell there was something Dana was struggling with, but she was sure they could work through it. Her, Lena, Brandon…they were going to be a family, and they’d have to decide where to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas and birthdays, but it could be done. It could be…normal, something she thought she’d given up when she declared herself a lesbian. But the feelings she had for Lena, this feeling of family around them…that…it _was_ normal. It was her family.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Lena dried the dishes, a small smile on her face as she thought about the evening. She could hear the water running as her dad took a shower and she heard the clink of dishes as her mom brought the last of them in from the dining room. “Thanks mom,” she said, “it won’t take me long. When I’m done I can make tea if you’d like.”

“I’ll make it right now,” said her mother, moving to the cupboards, the quiet clatter proving her unfamiliarity of the shelving set-up. When she emerged holding two silver canisters of tea leaves, she glanced over at her daughter, “which would you prefer?”

“Mm, the Oolong I think,” Lena answered after a short debate.

“Okay.” Dana put water in the kettle and set it to boil, watching her daughter hum lightly as she finished the dishes. When the water was ready, she took two mugs to the kitchen table, letting the tea seep as she debated her choices. Stuart would be awhile longer, that would give her the time she needed. “Lena, you’re nearly done with the dishes, aren’t you?”

“Almost,” Lena responded.

“Then come over here, let me talk to you,” her mother requested gently.

Lena stiffened involuntarily, closing her eyes to try and savor the happiness from that night. Whatever she was about to hear, it wouldn’t be good. She took a deep breath and nodded. Drying her hands, she avoided her mother’s eyes she sat at the table and curled her hands around the mug. “Did you have a good time tonight Mom?” she asked.

“I did, I did,” her mother said. “Stef is a lovely woman and Brandon is very sweet.”

Lena nodded, other shoe, other shoe, other shoe…

Dana blew over the top of the mug, taking her first, cautious sip before speaking. “Lena, baby, what do you expect to happen with this relationship?”

Lena licked her lips, “we’re going to live together. We’re going to be a family.”

Dana leaned back in her chair, eyes scanning her daughter’s face. “Really Lena?”

“Yes.” Lena kept her voice even.

Dana leaned forward deliberately, “Lena, what are you thinking?” It was not her nature beat around the bush. She would say what needed to be said.  
“What do you mean?”

“Stef is just now beginning to discover who she is and what that means to herself and to her family. She clearly still has some discomfort with the whole idea, not to mention guilt. Are you really ready to go backwards in that regard? Back to trying to explain yourself, to justify yourself? The fact that Stef hasn’t really accepted who she is, is only one of many things that you don’t have in common.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that to me. You of all people. I can’t believe you’re trying to fit me and Stef in some kind of mold, after all you went through to marry Dad.” The tea lay forgotten in front of Lena and she sat stiffly, glaring at her mother.

“Your father and I have more in common than not, and you know that.” Dana pointed a finger at her daughter in reproof, “I found him travelling in Italy, marveling at paintings and arguing philosophy with college professors. When we first met we talked for hours and that hasn’t changed!”

“We-”

“She didn’t graduate from college, the only time she’s been outside the country has been to go to Mexico, and even within the country she’s barely been out of California. What does she know of art, of music, of politics, of…of anything you are passionate about?”

Her mother’s words were like darts, puncturing her deeply. “That doesn’t matter we-”

“Doesn’t matter? Lena, what do you expect to be talking about in five years, in ten years? Do you want to have a relationship that only revolves around your children? I can tell you I’ve seen that and time and time again those marriages fail.” Dana’s tone showed every inch of her frustration with her daughter.

Lena breathed through the sudden onslaught of emotions. Her mother had unearthed worries that she’d maintained, then discarded, bringing them out in the open as proof of Lena’s mistakes, proof of a tender heart that sometimes led her to impulsive decisions. Tears burned in her eyes. “Mom, stop.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you Lena, I can see in your eyes that’s what you think. It’s a mother’s job sometimes to give unpleasant truths…to stop the real heartbreak later on.” Dana tried to reach across the table for her daughter’s hand but Lena pulled away.

“Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it wrong,” Lena choked out. “You waited….”

“No Lena, this is exactly what I need to say and when I need to say it,” Dana said. “I can see the way she looks at you…the way you look at her. I’m not blind. I saw the way you held Brandon, the way he clearly adores you. You’ve fallen in love with a woman who has a child. I don’t want you to get trapped in a situation where you stay because you think you should, or feel like you have to, especially when that little boy’s involved.”

“I wouldn’t do that. Stef being a mother is one reason I love her yes, but it’s not the only reason. There is so much to her, more than you can know about in two visits.”

“Then let’s talk about another part of her. Stef is a cop and that scares you.” Dana’s declaration rattled Lena. “She’s in a job where there’s a possibility she will be killed and she faces that every day.”

Lena shuddered, “I know that.”

“That means _you’ll_ face it every day. You can barely talk about it. How can you expect your relationship to thrive if you can’t even discuss the facets of a career in which she clearly thrives?”

Lena’s eyes were wet as she glared at her mother, “I’ll figure it out.” The words had a hollow edge that she despised.

“You’ll figure it-, Lena if you are truly going to have a relationship with this woman…a…a marriage, you’re going to need to do more than figure it out. You’re going to need to come to terms with it, to embrace it!”

“I know that!” Lena said, her own failures displayed without mercy. Nonetheless, the words poured from her. “I love her Mom. I _love_ her. It’s not something that can be explained or quantified. You can’t put conditions or terms on it because it doesn’t exist that way. And yes there’s things that are frightening to me and make me uncomfortable but that’s the way love is sometimes!” Tears trickled down her face now and she rubbed at them angrily with the heels of her hands, cursing her own inner weakness. Her voice grew quiet, “I love her. She loves me. That’s not all we have, but it drives us. I want your support on this Mom, because I know there are parts that are going to be hard, but if you choose not to support us, we’ll still be in love, we’ll still be together. I know that much for sure, and you’ll miss out. Don’t do that Mommy. Don’t do that to me, don’t do that to yourself. Trust me on this, trust my heart. Stef and I are going to be happy.” Lena gasped out a short breath, then breathed more deeply, staring at her mother, willing her to believe what she said. She let her hand creep across to her mother’s open hand, where it had lain after her aborted effort to reach out. When she felt her mother’s hand fold over hers, tears trembled on her eyelids.

Dana closed her eyes. She was a tough woman, occasionally harder than certain situations warranted, but experience had taught her she needed that extra layer. Her daughter’s shell was thinner than hers, and it was a mother’s prerogative to worry. She squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Okay baby, it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice the same as when she had soothed a three-year old Lena to sleep, and to a thirteen-year old Lena mending her first broken heart. “I hear you, I do. I promise you, I do.”

Lena sniffed, feeling drained but relieved that she had gotten her mother to listen. Dana didn’t totally approve, and wasn’t completely happy, but that was okay. That part was just her mom. But her mother trusted her decision and she would support it now, now that Lena had been able to make her see that this relationship was not fleeting, but forever.

Her mother stood and came over to her, leaning down to hold her and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I do believe you sweetheart. I may worry and I probably won’t keep quiet about it.” Lena snorted, _probably_? Her mother ignored her and went on, “But I know you. There’s never been anything that you didn’t want that you wouldn’t hold onto with both hands. That’s always been your strength. You use that, and I’ll know you’ll be okay.”

They held onto one another for long moments. When Dana cleared her throat, they pulled away simultaneously. Lena looked at her mother. She was frowning. “What Mom?”

“I suppose this whole thing will rather make me a grandmother.” She sounded like she didn’t know whether to be appalled or thrilled.

“I guess so.”

“Hm.”

Lena smiled.


	29. Camping

“Lantern?”

“Check.”

“Flashlights for everyone?”

“Check.”

“Bug repellent?”

“Check.”

Stef shook her head, flopping down on the floor next to her lover, “that has to have been the longest checklist in the history on checklists.”

“It wasn’t that long,” said Lena, rolling her eyes at Stef’s complaints but taking the opportunity to give her a quick kiss.

“I don’t think I’ve ever taken this much camping before. In fact, one time Mike and I just threw some sleeping bags in the back of the car and slept outdoors when we got too tried to drive anymore.”

“And how did that work out for you?” asked Lena, smiling knowingly. She knew this particular story.

Stef drew a knee up, settling her chin on it as she frowned,  “oh right, that’s the one where I got sprayed by the skunk, isn’t it?”

Lena only smirked at her.

“I don’t care, I still think we have too much stuff,” Stef said, looking at the pile that seemed to be taking up half of the living room.

“We have three kids,” Lena reminded her.

Stef was about to joke that they had too many kids when she saw a little head,peeking from the stairs. “Hey sweets, what do you need?”

Mariana walked slowly to her foster moms. She wasn’t sure if this was a good time to talk to them. “Sorry,” she offered immediately.

“Sorry about what?” asked Stef.

“Interrupting?”

“It’s fine baby, you weren’t. You waited until we called for you. That’s very polite.” Lena gave her a reassuring smile and Mariana relaxed. Stef still scared her a little, just sometimes when she got mad, but Lena was always calm. She was afraid maybe that would change, but so far it hadn’t. “Uh, I had a question about packing,” she said.

“Yes?” asked Stef

“You said to, um, pack jeans and t-shirts and good hiking shoes,” the little girl said, tracing her fingers of the upholstery of the couch while she spoke.

“Uh-huh,” said Stef.

Mariana looked at them quickly, then down again “I don’t – I don’t know what good hiking shoes are,” she said, tone apologetic. She would have asked Brandon, it was better to ask a kid sometimes so you didn’t bug the adults, but he and Jesús had been fighting over where to put their things in the suitcase they were sharing. She had five pairs of shoes, four more shoes than she had ever had in her whole life and she didn’t want to make a mistake.

Lena reached out and gave her hand a little squeeze, “the brown ones that lace up around the ankles,” she said. “They have a good sole and they won’t hurt your feet when you go hiking.”

“Oh,” said Mariana brightening visibly, “okay.”

“How are the boys doing?” Stef asked, carelessly checking over one of the sleeping mats.

“Um-,” Mariana squeaked uncomfortably. Should she tell them they were fighting?

Stef raised an eyebrow, “they aren’t-”

“Mommy! Mama!” Brandon said as he bounced down the stairs. “I’m all ready to go. I wanna help with the food now.”

Stef grinned at her  son. “Why would you want to do that?” she teased him.

He ignored her tone. “Can we get all the stuff for S’mores…and get hot dogs and sloppy joes and chili and-”

Stef held up a hand, “it’s just for the weekend, little man. We aren’t bringing the entire grocery store. Besides, Mama has some different ideas about camping food.”

His face fell. “But the food’s the best part about camping,” he whined. Her turned to Lena, thrusting out a lower lip and kneeling on her lap. “Please Mama, please, please, please can we have the good camping food?”

She ran a hand over his hair. “I don’t know baby. That sounds like a lot of junk food.”

“Nu-uh!” he said quickly. “They’re um, part of the food groups.”

“Protein,” piped Mariana, an unexpected ally. “At least the hot dogs and Sloppy Joes are.”

Brandon shot her a grateful glance. “Yeah! And the buns are bread so they’re in the bread group.”

“And the S’mores?” Lena asked, a smile playing over her lips.

Brandon looked to Mariana for help but she frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know what S’mores are,” she said quietly.

“You don’t know what S’mores are?” asked Brandon incredulously as he climbed out of Lena’s lap. “How come?”

She shook her head. “I never had it. We never been camping before,” she reminded him.

Brandon gave her an undecipherable look, then smiled at her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really glad you and Jesús are coming with us.”

Mariana looked surprised, but gave him a tiny smile in return.

Before the moms could become too lost in the heart-warming scene, Jesús came barreling down the stairs like a small yet surprisingly erratic bullet. “Hey Stef!” he yelled, “can I get a garbage bag?”

Stef didn’t move from her kneeling position. “Why do you need a garbage bag, buddy?”

“I need it to catch the snipe.”

Brandon just barely covered his smirk in time.

“Brandon,” Lena’s tone was chastising.

“It’s tradition,” Brandon protested, then, trying not to give the trick away whispered, “remember? ‘Cause Mommy and Daddy did it to me.”

Lena gave Stef a look. Stef spread out her hands in supplication. “My Dad did it to me,” she reminded her partner. Although her dad was still kind of a sore subject, Stef couldn’t help but smile a little when she thought about it. She waved Jesús and Mariana over, showing them the various supplies they would be using so Lena and Brandon could talk.

Lena wavered. Brandon had been fairly disappointed when she informed him the first time they had gone camping, that she knew all about snipes. However, it _was_ a family tradition, albeit a little mean. “Did you think it was funny?” she asked him.

Brandon squinched up his face. “I was mad at first, but then it was kind of funny. Especially when me and Mommy and Daddy made a snipe and we put it in a tree for other people to find.”

Stef remained quiet, one ear on the twins and the other on the rest of her family. She decided to let Lena take the lead in this. She personally, thought Jesús would find it funny, but she also believed that Lena probably knew the twins best at this point. She sighed inwardly when Lena shook her head.

“I think Jesús would be upset. He’s had a hard time and he might think you’re trying to be mean, even though you’re just trying to be funny,” Lena explained. “Remember how we talked about how some jokes are funny to some people, but not to others?”

“Yeah,” said Brandon reluctantly.

“You guys could still make a snipe,” Lena suggested, patting his shoulder. “Mariana would probably like to help with that too.”

“Yeah, okay,” Brandon shrugged. “Could we go to the craft store and get feathers so it can be all sorts of colors?”

“Sure.”

Across the room, Stef winked at her partner.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Even though Brandon and Jesús spent the first thirty minutes of the car ride singing 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, it wasn’t a bad ride. Mariana was quiet but that wasn’t unusual. Lena let one hand hang out the window, relishing the air as it was buffeted carelessly in the wind. The other one curled over Stef’s as her lover let her fingers walk across Lena’s jeans clad thigh. It was a lazy kind of motion but sent light tingles across Lena’s body. She’d squeeze Stef’s hand in warning when her partner’s hand ventured into forbidden places. At that, Stef would look over at her with a wicked grin on her face. Playing this game to perfection, Lena kept up a conversation with her lover with the occasional interruption to speak to one of the children. Stef seemed to take this as a challenge and attempted to pass the egress that served as a barrier from gentle teasing to unequivocal, lustful touching. Lena managed a skillful defense but was fast forgetting why exactly she was stopping Stef’s delightfully intimate touches.

“Lena…Stef?” Jesús popped in-between the car seats.

Oh, right. Them. “Jesús, get back in your seat please and put on your seatbelt,” Lena said. Stef had darted her hand casually to the middle console when she felt the shift of movement from the backseat.

“But I gotta ask a question,” said Jesús.

“You can ask the question from your seat,” said Stef, no nonsense in her tone.

“But-“

Stef began to slow the car down.

Brandon yelped, “Jesús, get back into your seat now before Mommy stops the car!”

Jesús flopped back into his seat as Stef rolled her eyes. From her son’s tone, her stopping the car equaled instant death instead of the mild scolding she had planned on delivering. “Thank you,” she said dryly when she heard the seatbelt click. “Now, what is it you want?”

“Hmm,” Jesús tapped his chin. “I forgot,” he said in genuine surprise.

Lena gave what was either a cough or a strangled laugh. “Well, you can let us know when you remember, buddy, just stay in your seat when you do it please.”

“O-kay,” Jesús sighed heavily as if the burden was far too much for his little shoulders to bear.

Lena gave Stef a look, mirth and desire dancing in her dark brown eyes. Stef grinned in return, picked up her hand, and kissed it.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

“This is so cool,” said Jesús.

“This is like, the best camping spot ever!” said Brandon in excitement.

The boys began darting about, pointing at various aspects of the campground. Mariana seemed slightly overwhelmed.

“Hey, where’s this trail go?” asked Jesús, pointing to a sandy path.

“To the beach, from what I understand,” said Stef, beginning to unload things from the back seat.

“Really?” squeaked Mariana. “We’re camping in the woods _and_ next to the beach?” She sounded amazed at the possibility.

“We got fruit”!” yelled Brandon, already beginning to scale a tree. “Apples!”

“Really?” asked Jesús, “we can pick our very own apples?” He hurried over to the tree and began to climb it as well.

“Be careful boys,” said Lena as she began settling the boxes of supplies and the kerosene stove onto the picnic table.

“We will,” they chorused. Brandon was trying to hold his t-shirt as a pocket to put the apples in.

“Are they even ripe?” asked Stef. “You should check that before you pick a whole bunch of them.”

Brandon bit one curiously. He chewed carefully, his face puckered at first, then relaxing. “They taste different, but okay,” he said.

Jesús held onto a limb with one hand and bit into an apple as well. “It’s good!” he declared, “d’you want one Mariana?”

Mariana walked over to the tree, “okay.” Jesús handed one to her and she brought it back to where the moms were still unpacking, “would you like some?”

“Not right now sweetheart,” said Stef.

“Maybe later,” said Lena.

Mariana seated herself on the bench to watch her foster moms unpack. She chewed the apple slowly. “We got lots of stuff,” she said.

“Ha!” said Stef, “that’s what I said. Didn’t I say that?” she looked at Lena triumphantly.

“Yes dear, you did,” said Lena smiling unconcernedly.

Stef went to the car and pulled out the tent, “let’s set up the tent now, while the boys are too busy to “help” us,” she whispered to her wife.

“Hey, the tent!” yelled Brandon from his spot in the tree. “C’mon Jesús, we gotta help Moms with the tent, it’s like…our job. Mama says work always gets done faster when everyone works together.”

Stef gave her lover a mocking look, “thank you so much darling, for giving our son such sage advice.”

Lena giggled as she began rolling out the tarp. “I can’t help that our baby’s a sponge,” she said. She looked over at Mariana, “all our babies,” she said gently.

Mariana gave her the slow sweet smile that was beginning to appear more often. It was by far the expression Stef and Lena liked best.

Brandon and Jesús drew close to the tarp, looking at their moms expectantly. “O-kay,” said Brandon, swinging his arms and putting them on his hips, “what do we need to do here?”

For the first time, Stef felt a pang. Her son’s pose mirrored Mike’s down to the slight head tilt when he asked his question. She didn’t…miss Mike, not as a husband anyway, they were clearly unsuited for marriage, but she did miss her friend. He was getting better now, thank G-d, but once and awhile, when he picked up Brandon for their weekly visits, he’d look at her with an expression of mixed bewilderment and hurt that made her feel unbearably guilty. She had a beautiful wife, an amazing son and two foster children that had begun worming their way into her heart at first sight. The connection she had with Lena was the kind that fairy tales could be written about (if fairy tales were written about mixed race lesbian couples that is). It was something that couldn’t be denied…but she would always regret hurting Mike. Her life was perfect. She hoped his would be too some day. She shook her head, “well, first we need to go over the main rule of putting up a tent, and what is that buddy?”

He looked offended. “I was four!”

“What’s the rule?” she insisted.

“Pointy side goes into the ground,” he said to Jesús and Mariana.

“We’re really going to stay in this thing?” asked Jesús, eyeing the stakes speculatively.

“That’s right,” Lena said, beginning to connect the tent poles.

“How will it protect us from bears?” Jesús asked, copying her motions.

“Bears?” asked Mariana tremulously.

“Bears won’t get into the tent,” Stef assured them.

“I saw the sign at the Rangers’ station,” Jesús said proudly, “it said, watch out for bears and Brandon read the rest to me. It said we should put food in sealed containers so the bears don’t smell it.”

“That’s just what we’re going to do,” said Stef, putting a reassuring hand on Mariana’s shoulder. “The bears will have no reason to come into our campsite.”

“Unless they’re really hungry and eat us,” said Jesús, focusing on the tent poles. He didn’t sound scared, just matter-of-fact. “Brandon said that’s happened before.”

“Brandon,” Stef said, frowning at her son.

“I’m not lying,” he said instantly, “I read about it in a bear book.”

“I didn’t think you were ly-, look no more talk about bears, understand?”

“Okay Mommy.”

“You either Jesús,” said Stef, looking at the other boy.

“Okay,” said Jesús working quietly for about five seconds, “but what _do_ we do if a bear comes after us?”

Stef sighed.

“We’re going to follow all the rules of the campground. That’s why they’re there, to keep us safe,” said Lena.

“And you’ll keep us safe too?” asked Mariana as she looked between the two older women. This was something she heard from them often.

Stef ruffled her hair, “and we’ll keep you safe too,” she assured her. “We won’t let anything bad happen.”

Mariana looked relieved.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo

 

Getting the tent up didn’t take too long. They spent the rest of their day playing on the beach, building sandcastles, and wading in the water. Neither of the twins were strong swimmers yet, although they were more proficient then they were four months ago. Stef and Lena had put them swimming lessons almost as soon as they began fostering them. With so much water around, it was dangerous for them not to know.

Stef hoped that as hard as the kids were playing, they’d be ready to conk out as soon as it was dark. Sex was probably out of the question, they _were_ sharing their tent with three children after all, but some necking and heavy petting sounded pretty good to her. Sitting on their beach chairs, she traced a heart on Lena’s wrist as they watched the children play.

Lena gave her a little smile, “definitely,” she said. “Maybe if we’re very, very quiet we could-“

Before she could finish that tantalizing sentence, Jesús ran up to them. “Stef, Lena, look at this shell I found! Won’t it make a great window for the sand castle?”

“Oh, that’s a nice one,” said Lena, taking it from his hand to examine it. “Don’t you think, Stef?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” said Stef her voice filled with slightly faked enthusiasm.

“You guys are going to help us, right? You said you would and it’ll look better if we have grown-ups helping.”

“Yes,” Stef said, hauling herself out of her chair and offering her hand to Lena, “we’ll help.”

“Gonna have sand in interesting places,” she whispered to Lena.

“I’ll help you find it,” she whispered back.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

By the time they finished at the beach, every single one of them was ravenous and exhausted.  They ate the chili and campfire cornbread that Lena and Stef made, then settled onto chairs around the fire. A silence had fallen while they contemplated the flames dancing in the fire pit.

“I like this,” said Mariana, breaking the silence unexpectedly, “es muy bonito,” she waved her hands to indicate the trees surrounding them and the sky above.

Almost as one, Lena and Stef looked over at one another. Mariana very rarely initiated conversation but her tone suggested a relaxation and contentment they had rarely heard from her. “I’m glad sweetheart,” said Stef.

“Can we go camping a lot?” asked Jesús, “like, every weekend?”

“Well, we can’t go that often munchkin, but we’ll try to go every couple months or so,” said Lena, patting his hand.

“Okay,” he said cheerfully. “This is so cool. I never had vacation before.”

Stef felt a little lump in her throat, the boy’s tone held a mix of wonder and genuine amazement. She cleared her throat, “well that’s changing, isn’t it buddy?”

Mariana had her head tipped back and was gazing at the stars, “Is there a million of them?”

“More than that,” said Lena. “There’s as many stars in the sky as there are grains of sand on the beach.”

The little girl’s mouth dropped open, “ _de verdad_?” Her voice was a whisper of awe.

“Seriously Mama?” Brandon looked skeptical, “’cause Mommy said we were bringing half the beach in the tent when we were changing but she was ‘xaggeratin’.”

“Totally true,” said Lena. She felt Stef’s fond glance on her head and turned to give her a look. “And Mommy _was_ exaggerating, as she tends to do. You guys only brought in about a fourth of the beach.” They grinned at each other.

“Mama,” Brandon sighed in exasperation, “you know we aren’t starting fractions in school yet. You’re leaving us out of the joke. No fair.”

“Let’s make S’mores,” said Stef, derailing the rest of that particular conversation.

“Yes!” said Jesús.

“Finally!” Brandon said. “Can I use my pocket knife to whittle the end of my marshmallow stick?”

“May I, and yes you may,” said Stef, pulling it out of her pocket.

Lena chuckled. Brandon could easily remove the bark of the sticks around here with his fingers but a pocket knife was much, much cooler.

“You didn’t say you had a pocket knife,” said Jesús, getting over his chair to watch as Stef handled the Swiss Army Knife to Brandon.

“I can only use it for camping,” said Brandon, “my Daddy got it for me last year.”

“Oh,” Jesús sounded a little disappointed.

Brandon squirmed a little, evidently being prodded by his conscience. He carefully didn’t look at his moms. “Um, you can like, borrow it if you want. If you’re careful,” he said with a tiny sigh.

“Cool!” Jesús waited half a second, “now?” he asked, already reaching out.

Another sigh, this one a bit deeper, “yeah.”

Stef patted her son’s head in approval and bent down to kiss his cheek, “that’s my good boy,” she whispered.

He gave her a grin and a little shrug.

Stef turned to the other little boy, “Jesús, if you get a stick, I’ll show you how to use the knife, okay?”

“Sure. First I’m gonna find the best stick for Mariana,” said Jesús importantly, beginning to scour the campsite.

“Don’t you want to find a stick Mariana?” Lena asked her.

Mariana shrugged, then shook her head.

“Make sure the stick is long enough so it can reach the fire and so you won’t get burned,” Stef said.

“How long is that?” Jesús asked.

“About as long as my arm,” said Lena, getting up to get the S’more supplies from the car.

Dutifully, Jesús searched the ground around the campsite, picking up several, then discarding them as not worthy. He finally found one, gnarled and pebbled with sap. “Here you go Mariana,” said Jesús, bringing it over to his sister.

Mariana frowned at it, “it’s dirty,” she said. “I’m not putting my marshmallow on some dirty stick.”

“It’s nature,” argued Jesús, “nature’s not dirty. There’s no way you can get sick from it. I dropped my cornbread tonight and ate it just fine.”

“Oh, Jesús, said Lena, frowning at him, “don’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s like the ten second rule but it lasts forever,” said Jesús, looking bewildered by her disapprobation.

“Even if there wasn’t germs on it, and there were, there’s still dirt on it,” said Lena, opening the package of graham crackers and the bag of marshmallows.

Jesús looked over at Stef for help. “I’m with you buddy,” said Stef, tousling his hair, “it’s just dirt.”

“Stef!” Lena chastised

Brandon giggled and Mariana smiled as she looked between them. She liked when their voices held that undercurrent of teasing.

“Just think of the money we could save on groceries,” said Stef, bringing a stick each for she and Lena over to the fire, “dirt sandwiches…mud pies. Grass could be our vegetable.”

“Ewwww,” said Jesús.

“No way,” said Brandon definitively, “Mama would never feed me dirt.”

“But I would?” Stef said, trying to contain her laughter but managing to sound offended.

Brandon wrinkled his nose, “ _probably_ not,” he conceded, “you might if you were being funny though.”

“If Mommy used the pans in our kitchen to cook anything with dirt in it, she’d be in trouble,” said Lena, arching her eyebrow at Stef as she unwrapped Hershey’s chocolate bars.

“Can’t have that,” said Stef with a mock pout at her partner. “No dirt dinners kids. Sorry.”

Amidst intermittent giggles from the children, five marshmallows were deposited on five sticks and browned (or in some cases) blackened in the fire. After assembling their S’mores, the family held their breaths as Mariana tried it for the first time. Her brown eyes opened wide, “it’s really, really good,” she said, “try it Jesús!”

“Told ya,” said Brandon, biting into his own dessert.

“This is the best thing ever!” said Jesús, “can we have another one?”

“You haven’t even finished your first one,” said Stef, laughing a little.

Immediately, Jesús began cramming the rest of the S’more in his mouth. “Whoa, hey. Jesús!” said Lena, “you aren’t getting another one so slow down.”

“Pleeeeease?” begged Jesús, spraying a mouthful of crumbs.

“C’mon Mama,” whispered Stef quietly as she stopped be her lover’s chair to saunter towards picnic table for more supplies, “just one more. They’ll be on a sugar high for a few minutes and then crash hard tonight.”

“Fine,” said Lena shaking her head, “ _one_ more,” she told the children.

“Yay!”

Mariana nibbled hers carefully while the boys took less careful bites. Her stomach had hurt during the car ride but she didn’t want to say anything to her foster moms. She just made herself go to sleep and ignore it the best she could. She didn’t want to cause any trouble. She wanted to make sure she could enjoy this treat without throwing it up later on. That would be bad.

Brandon, Jesús, and Mariana buzzed around the campground climbing trees, tossing balls back and forth, and in general, whirling around like the tiny dervishes they were. Stef and Lena, had managed to snuggle together on an extra large camp chair under a blanket. So far they had managed to keep their touches innocent, but it would be fair to say they were counting the minutes until their children finally went to sleep.

Brandon, observing their comfort, decided that he needed to seat himself directly into their laps. “Moms, why aren’t you playing with us?”

“We’re resting,” said Lena, stroking his hair fondly. 

He laid down across their laps, gazing at the stars, “I’m a little tired too,” he admitted.

Stef’s face brightened, “well why don’t you settle down? We’ll tell some stories.”

“Can we tell ghost stories?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” began Lena, looking at Mariana who had crept closer.

Stef snorted, “sure,” she said to her son. Then to her partner, “have you heard his version of a ghost story? Believe me, even in his scariest repertoire ends with some horrible little-kid humor.”

By this time, Jesús and Mariana had gathered near the chair, Mariana looking longingly at their laps. Lena gently maneuvered Brandon so he was sitting up to make room for his foster siblings. Luckily, all three children were still relatively small, so they managed to fit all three kids with them. “I don’t know if this chair is going to hold up,” said Lena quietly.

“Guess we’ll see,” Stef grinned at her as Lena rolled her eyes.

“I wanna tell my ghost story,” said Brandon, wriggling impatiently. Stef arched an eyebrow at him, “please,” he amended instantly.

“Which one?” she asked, hoping it wouldn’t be the ant one.

“Davy Crockett,” he said eagerly.

“Is it scary?” asked Mariana, poking her head up from Lena’s elbow.

“It’s a ghost story,” said Brandon, somewhat disdainfully. “It _has_ to be.”

Mariana trembled a little, so Stef put her mouth close to their little girl’s ear, “no it’s not,” she whispered.

“Okay, here it goes,” Brandon took a deep breath, then paused for a minute. “Wait, Mama, I need a flashlight for my face please.”

With a smirk, Lena handed him a flashlight, the smirk widening into a smile when he put it under his chin and turned the light on. He contorted his face, only to find that he couldn’t remain like that and tell the story at the same time. “This is hard,” he complained to his moms.

“Do you want me to tell a story?” asked Stef.

“No Mommy,” he said instantly. “I can do it.” He took a deep breath. “Once upon a time there was this old, haunted motel in the middle of the deep, dark woods. And everyone said that anyone who stayed in Room 217 died.”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her lover. Had she slipped a Stephen King reference into the ghost story she taught their son?

Stef smirked at her. Of course she had.

“Oh no,” said Mariana.

“Cool,” said Jesús.

Lena kissed the top of Mariana’s head and assured her everything was going to be alright.

“So one day this big guy comes and says, I want a room. And the hotel owner says, _the top floor’s being destroyed in the morning and the bottom floor is haunted_. And the big guy says, _I don’t care, I won’t scream in the middle of the night_. So he goes in, sets his stuff down and hears _I am the ghost of Able Fable, put your money on the table_.” Brandon tried to make his voice spooky, but failed with a squeak at the end when his Mom reached out and tickled his stomach. He glared at her, “Mo-om!”

“Sorry baby.” Jesús giggled when she winked at him.

“So the guy puts his money on the table, jumps out the window…and dies,” Brandon declared impressively.

Mariana whimpered and Lena cuddled her some more.

“So then a tough guy came to the hotel and says, _I want a room_. And the hotel owner says, _the top floor’s being destroyed in the morning and the bottom floor’s haunted_. And the big guy says, _I don’t care, I won’t scream in the middle of the night._ So he goes in, sets his stuff down and hears _I am the ghost of Able Fable, put your money on the table_. So the guy puts his money on the table, jumps out the window…and dies.”

“I don’t like this story,” said Mariana, frowning at him.

“It’s a good ending, I promise Mariana,” Brandon assured her. She settled back against Lena.

“Then **Davy Crockett** came to the hotel and says, _I want a room_. And the hotel owner says, _the top floor’s being destroyed in the morning and the bottom floor’s haunted_. And **Davy Crockett** says, _I don’t care, I won’t scream in the middle of the night_. So he goes in, sets his stuff down and hears _I am the ghost of Able Fable, put your money on the table_.” And Davy Crockett says, “ _I am the ghost of Davy Crockett, money stays in Davy’s pocket.”_ Brandon looked at the twins, holding his breath.

Jesús began giggling so hard he fell off of Stef’s lap. “I am the ghost of Davy Crockett, money stays in Davy’s pocket,” he chanted. “That’s funny Brandon.”

Brandon looked pleased. He glanced at Mariana, “is that better now Mariana?” Brandon asked anxiously. “It’s funny, right?”

Mariana giggled a little hesitantly, her voice slightly higher pitched. “Yeah. That man had a silly name.”

Relieved, Brandon looked at his Moms, then at Jesús, who was taking the opportunity to roll in the dirt.

“Okay,” said Stef, getting up and picking up Jesús from the ground in the process. “I think it’s time for three little children to get ready for bed.”

“Aww,” complained Jesús in disappointment.

The moms took their children to the communal restroom, standing in a line of other moms with similarly sleepy children to brush their teeth and wash their faces. By the time they were clad in their pajamas, all three children were finally beginning to succumb to their exhaustion.

“Another story please Stef?” begged Jesús, as they gathered around the campfire once more.

“No,” said Lena firmly. One of Stef’s stories would just rev them up.

“Sing please Mama?” requested Brandon.

She smiled at him, then the twins, “that’s a good idea.” After she and Stef positioned the children to they were cradled instead of sitting up, Lena gently began:

 

_There are loved ones in the glory_

_Whose dear forms you often miss._

_When you close your earthly story,_

_Will you join them in their bliss?_

 

_Will the circle be unbroken_

_By and by, by and by?_

_Is a better home awaiting_

_In the sky, in the sky?_

 

When she heard Stef’s softer, tenor voice join in the chorus, Lena smiled. Stef’s attitude towards religion in general was tainted by her experiences as an adolescent and continued attitudes of hate-mongering. Even six months ago, Stef would have tensed at the song, at the memories it brought. Now she just cuddled the children, the flames painting her face in a reflective light. Lena sang several more songs, joined in by Stef, until the wriggling little bodies in their arms began to grow heavy with sleep. After the last song, they carried the children into the tent and slipped them inside their sleeping bags with good-night kisses.

“Lena?” asked Jesús as she stroked the hair from his forehead.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“The fire noises and the ocean make my body feel like jello,” he said, barely managing to crack open an eye.

“You mean you’re relaxing?”

“Uh-huh. I like it ‘cause when I listen real hard I can hear all the little sounds but then they get all mixed up together and they sound just like shhhhhhhhhhh,” he demonstrated, trying to talk through a yawn.

“Well maybe we can get you some nature sounds like this for home, and you can listen to it before you go to sleep at night. Then you can feel like you’re camping at home.” She gave him another kiss on his forehead.

“ _Gracias_ , Lena. You’re so nice. You’re the nicest person I know. You and Stef.” Jesús’s lids began drifting down again, even as he struggled to keep them open.

“ _Muchas gracias bebe_.”

When the women managed to make their way stealthily out of the tent, they flopped into the chair. “You know why three is harder then one?” Stef asked.

“Why?” asked Lena expecting a dissertation on equipping three little souls for the big, bad world.

“They outnumber us. It’s not fair. The only advantage we have it that we’re bigger and between us we have four hands.” Stef let her head drop companionably on Lena’s shoulder. “I just can’t figure out what we’re going to do when they’re too big too grab.”

“Funny,” said Lena, snuggling closer. “Look at those stars.”

“I know. I can never get over how much we can see when we’re away from the city lights,” agreed Stef. She shifted a little, pulling the blanket over them.

“Mmm,” Lena hummed happily when Stef’s wrapped her arms around her and her hand tracked it’s way down her body.

“My G-d, I thought they’d never go to sleep,” Stef admitted, nuzzling Lena’s neck and planting small kisses there.

“They’re so happy here,” agreed Lena, taking the opportunity to begin unbuttoning Stef’s shirt. “We should visit more often.”

“If we do that, we’re getting a second tent,” Stef declared, shivering a little when Lena traced the skin around the edges of her bra.

“Kids are too little to be in a tent by themselves,” Lena said, concentrating on a spot Stef seemed to particularly enjoy.

Stef groaned in frustration at the teasing and the verbal response. She debated about trying to flip her lover on the ground, but decided against it. That might be romantic in the movies, but it was more likely roll into poison ivy...or have a snake bite their butts. She lifted Lena into her lap, causing her lover squeal a little.

“I never expect it when you do stuff like that,” Lena chastised playfully, now face-to-face and depositing kisses around her mouth. “You’re deceptively strong.”

“Cop,” Stef reminded her, beginning to unbutton her shirt. “I lift weights every day.”

“Do drunks really count as weights?”

“Funny.”

Lena lay her hands over Stef’s, “Slow down,” she whispered, “I want to take our time tonight, okay?”

Stef nodded, easing off a little. However she did decide that Lena’s jeans had to go, no matter how slow they decided to take it. She unbuttoned them easily but snaking them off was awkward. She looked at her lover seriously, “I think you should wear a skirt tomorrow.”

“Nobody wears a skirt camping.”

“We should.”

“Nobody’s wearing a skirt just for easier access.”

Stef groaned in frustration as the jeans inched down interminably.

“I could get up,” Lena suggested.

“I like you where you are,” Stef said, tugging some more. “Maybe you could wear sweatpants.”

“That’s an idea,” said Lena, finally freed of her jeans.

Stef lay the blanket back over them, her movements slower now, languorous. “Just think of the fun we could have.”

“What would you wear?” asked Lena, grinding herself gently on Stef.

“What would you want me to wear?”

“Nothing but your glasses and a smile,” said Lena, smiling sweetly.

“You have a thing for my glasses.”

“I have a thing for you in your glasses,” said Lena agreeably. She leaned in letting their foreheads touch as the kissed, came up for air, and kissed again.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Mariana wriggled uncomfortably. She couldn’t believe it. She was going to ruin everything. She’d gone to the bathroom before bed, just like Lena and Stef said, but now she had to go again. She looked at the boys who were still sleeping peacefully. She could hear the crackling of the fire and low sounds from her foster moms. Her stomach ached with anxiety. She didn’t know what to do. If she told them she had to go to the bathroom again they’d probably get mad at her for interrupting them…and they might even think she disobeyed them earlier in the day when Stef warned them it was their last chance for a – what had she called it? A pit stop. But if she stayed here she would wet her sleeping bag and that terrified her even more. She’d accidentally wet the bed at the other foster home, she didn’t even know why. She had been mortified but when her foster mother had found out. First she looked shocked, then mad. “You ought to be absolutely ashamed, young lady. You’re too but a girl to be doing this kind of thing.” That had been bad enough, but when the woman had told her foster dad, he had frowned at her, looking perplexed then asked (in front of the other foster kids too), “do we need to get her diapers or something?” Mariana had wanted to disappear. She had never felt so humiliated in her entire life. To her horror and complete bewilderment, she had had two more accidents, even though she refused to drink any liquids past noon. When the foster mom had brought some kind of diaper (it _said_ Goodnights Underpants but she new what a diaper looked like), Mariana had dissolved into tears. They had insisted she wear them at night until Jesús, in a fit of anger at his sister’s treatment, coolly unbuttoned his pants and peed all over the bedroom floor. “There you _pendejos_ , now you got something to be mad about.” That was when they’d been left at the police station. But that had been okay, because that’s where they met Stef and now they lived with her and Lena and Brandon. She didn’t want to mess it up. Not now. Not when she and Jesús were actually happy.

She unzipped the tent door a tiny little bit. Lena and Stef were…were cuddling on the chair. They were definitely busy. Mariana looked out into the darkness around their campfire, wishing they were home. At home, the bathroom was just down the hall and it wouldn’t be a problem. But here…here, the bathroom was _so_ far away. She couldn’t go into the dark all by herself! Without meaning too, a whimper escaped her.

Brandon snuffled then woke up, peering sleepily at her. “Wha’s wrong?” he asked.

Mariana looked at him desperately, not knowing what to say.

He blinked, taking a look at her urgent body language. Before she could stop him, he opened his mouth, “Moms! Mariana’s gotta go! Bathroom ‘mergency!”

She looked at him in open-mouthed horror as he turned over and went back to sleep. Jesús, slept on, drooling a little onto his pillow. Once he crashed, he crashed hard. Mariana looked at him somewhat balefully as she heard a _thunk_ from outside. “ _Lo siento_ ,” Mariana whispered, when she saw Stef’s head poke in the tent. “I’m...I’m sorry,” she repeated in English.

Stef reached for her, not bothering to try and get shoes on her, “why are you sorry? When you gotta go, you gotta go.” She pulled her out of the tent and set a quick pace for the communal bathrooms.

“You said…you said go before bed,” Mariana whispered miserably.

“And you did and you have to go again. That happens.”

They made it to the bathroom and Mariana was as quick as she could so she didn’t cause any more problems.

“I’m sorry,” Mariana said.

“Sweetheart, stop apologizing, It’s fine,” said Stef as she helped the little girl wash her hands. She looked at the child’s despondent face in the mirror. “Mariana, I don’t know what’s happened in the past, but you never have to feel bad about something like this. Never, ever, ever.”

“I wasn’t thinking?” Mariana offered hesitantly as Stef repositioned her so she hung onto her like a baby koala.

“You weren’t thinking about what?” asked Stef as she headed out the restroom door and down the path to their campsite.

Mariana shrugged. She wasn’t sure, but it was something adults said when you made them mad, right?

“Love, you have to stop worrying about everything all the time. There is nothing you and your brother have done that isn’t anything any kids, anywhere haven’t done. You are a wonderful kid and a delight to have around.”

Mariana wrapped her legs around Stef’s waist, her arms around her neck, and let her head rest on her shoulder. She felt so safe, being carried like this. Her mom didn’t carry her. Mariana though her mom must’ve when she was really, really, little, but she couldn’t remember her mom ever doing it. She thought it might have something to do with her mom not being very big…or maybe that her mom wasn’t very strong. Stef was really, really, strong - almost like a man. She lifted up Jesús and Brandon and carried them all the time. So did Lena, even though she didn’t do it as much. They seemed to actually like it. They never got mad at the kids when they picked them up. Mariana sighed quietly. She felt Stef’s hand reach over to stroke her hair so she cuddled closer. She hoped she didn’t have to leave Stef and Lena soon. If her mom came back, of course she wanted to go with her.  Because…because it was her _mom_. But, if her mom was still lost, Mariana prayed she would stay with Stef and Lena. She prayed that they would still want them.

When they got back to the campsite, Lena gave her a kiss and helped tuck her back in. They kissed the boys again, and sat with Mariana while her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Before she drifted off, she felt a hand caress her cheek and she felt warm lips press against her forehead. “ _Buenas noches_.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

Stef stretched languidly, as she left the tent, “what do you think that was about?” she asked.

“More trauma,” said Lena quietly, reaching over to take Stef’s hand. They settled back into the chair, both lost in thought.

“I wish we knew more about that happened to them, but they’re so little they can’t explain it. And they can’t differentiate between what was an appropriate adult reactions and what wasn’t,” Stef sighed, as Lena reclined against her.

“They’ll learn,” said Lena quietly, lacing her fingers in Stef’s. “We’ll teach them.”

“I can’t believe how fast everything’s happened,” said Stef, staring into the firelight. “Meeting, the house, the kids. Some of it feels like yesterday but then I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“You keep talking mushy to me tonight and it won’t matter that we’re in a campground,” Lena said.

“Promise?”

“Definitely.”

Stef looked at her and frowned, “you’re wearing pants again,” she said pointedly.

“Guess you’ll just have to get them off…again,” said Lena, tilting her head so she could kiss her.

“After all the trouble I had getting them off?” Stef snorted, “what’s my reward?’

Lena cupped the back of Stef’s head and whispered in her ear.

Stef leaned back to look at her, “seriously? Didn’t those women we read about end up hurting themselves?”

“That’s why we’re going to stretch.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

The next morning, Brandon rubbed his eye sleepily as he exited the tent, shuffling a little in his sandals.

“Hi sweetheart,” said Lena, putting some more wood into the fire.

“Hey baby,” said Stef as she sipped her coffee. “How did you sleep?”

Brandon hesitated by the fire pit, looking around, “what happened to the chair?” His eyes widened and he looked wildly at his moms. “Did a bear come here last night?”

Lena hid a smile, “uh, no, baby. No bears.”

“But the chair’s all…all…squished.”

“Mama and I were wrestling and we busted it,” Stef lied smoothly.

Lena chuckled as Brandon’s head swiveled towards her for confirmation. She nodded sadly, “yep.”

He looked at them suspiciously, “is that _really_ what happened?”

“How about this, if you really, really want to know, you can ask me about it when you’re older,” said Stef, grinning impishly over at Lena.

“How old?”

“Twenty-one,” said Stef.

He sighed, “that’s a long time.”

“Believe me baby,” said Lena, pulling him onto her lap, “you’ll actually appreciate that.”

Stef laughed.


End file.
